Standing on the Edge Dancing in the Flames
by BattleKitten
Summary: Life isn't all singing and dancing, not even in Glee club. And what if being on top of the pyramid just gives you further to fall. When everyone feels like a frienemy and fathers and faculty and babies and boyfriends complicate EVERYTHING, how are you ever supposed to get anything right? (Book Two of the 'No Halo' series)
1. Chapter 1

The sequel, as promised. Sorry about any mistakes. I've done my best, but I currently don't have a beta for this.

 **Chapter one: What Do We Do With This Thing?**

A red Volkswagen Beetle sat alone and out of place in the darkness; the one working light pole was a way off, it's distance serving only to gild the shiny curves of the vehicle. A hunting owl swooped low and silent overhead but any prey was long gone, spooked by the muffled thumps and thuds from inside the car.

"Q-Quinn!"

"Mmm?"

"The central console is bruising me."

"So come over here!"

"We've already discussed how the steering wheel would impede us."

"Oh yeah."

When Quinn kissed her again Rachel assumed she'd given up on trying to solve their situational dilemma, until the blonde pulled back, a little breathless and not quite meeting her eyes.

"So how would you feel about . . . uh, I mean . . ." She glanced over her shoulder before darting her eyes to Rachel's and giving her a timid grin. "Do you, maybe, want to get in the back?"

Rachel bit her lip, smiling nervously.

They hadn't lingered in the school parking lot, both realising it wouldn't be wise. Instead Quinn had driven them to somewhere she'd promised would guarantee them privacy. Rachel wasn't completely happy with the secluded spot, it was much too slasher-flick for her and every time a train shot past she jumped out of her skin but . . .

. . . but Quinn wanted to get in the back seat with her!

"Okay." Quinn grinned and started to open her door, until Rachel tugged on her arm. "Are you insane? Who knows what's out there!"

She clambered through the space between the front seats and kept her grip on Quinn's arm, giving her no choice but to do the same. "So where were we?"

Quinn pressed into her side, twisting and pulling her closer as she kissed her again and Rachel's hands slid loosely around Quinn's neck.

"So this is making out?" she murmured after a few minutes.

"This is making out." Quinn agreed. "Do you like it?"

"So much!"

Quinn kissed her again and Rachel lost herself in it. Mostly. This was unbelievable, but her mind had had time to catch up. She _hated_ her mind right now. It was telling her to ask questions, to find out why this was happening, when the rest of Rachel just wanted to indulge in the fact that it was happening at all! She opted to ignore it, after all any questions important enough would still be important tomorrow, but then another fast-paced rattle of wheels caused her to pull back anyway.

"It's just a train, Rachel," Quinn chuckled, kissing her chin. "It's not going to hurt you."

"I know." Rachel's reply came out quivery, not because the train had scared her but because Quinn's lips were trailing down her throat. "But are you?"

Quinn pulled back, the shape of her features in the scant light portraying annoyance. "What?"

"Nothing. It doesn't matter. Just kiss me again."

Quinn obliged but there was an edge of dominance in her lips now that hadn't been there before. Rachel had made her mad. It was hard to dislike the effect it had but at the same time it only reinforced that fact that they had issues to discuss.

"If you're going to run your fingers through my hair could you at least take the tie out first? That kinda hurts, you know?"

"Oh, sorry." She hadn't even realised her fingers were twisting anxiously in the pulled back hair. She made Quinn wince again with her enthusiastic compliance but then she was casting the hair tie aside and her hands were running through thick blonde, smoothing the damp hair out with her fingertips. "Is that better?"

"Uh-huh." Quinn's lips met hers again, before dipping down to her neck. "Feels . . ." she gave a soft giggle ". . . you're making my scalp _tingle_. You know like when you get a shampoo at the salon?"

Rachel grinned, "Is that normal?"

"I don't know, it's new to me."

"Is all of this new to you?"

"Hmm?"

"This. Do you do this a lot?"

"I'm not sure I like what you're implying there, Berry." Quinn sounded displeased but her lips never stopped moving over Rachel's skin. "I'm not some kind of make-out slut if that's what you think."

"Of course I don't think that. I'm just curious."

"About what?"

Rachel was surprised she could remember how to frown when Quinn was making her feel so good but there were things she needed to know so that she could, well _know_ them and not be thinking about _not_ knowing them. Then she could fully enjoy this.

"I guess I'm asking . . ."

When she trailed off Quinn pulled back to meet her eyes. "What _are_ you asking, Rachel?"

"It's just that you didn't even hesitate to bring us here so I'm wondering if you come here a lot, with Finn maybe?"

"I'm going to answer your question because I'd rather be kissing you than bickering with you right now, but in future, that's one rule that still stands: you are not allowed to get jealous of Finn, okay? He's my boyfriend, I'm . . . I'm having his baby, my relationship with him is separate to you and not up for discussion _between_ us."

Rachel nodded to show she understood perfectly.

"This used to be the hot make-out spot when my sister did her senior year at McKinley, but everyone goes up to Lima Ridge now because of the lake and the new golf course. And no, I've never come here with him. I've never even made out with him in my car, let alone jumped into the backseat with him. I've never brought or come here with anyone else. I've never wanted to before y-now. Okay?"

Rachel smiled; one worry down. "Okay."

"Okay," Quinn repeated before brushing their lips softly together. "Any more questions or can we go back to doing what we came here to do?"

"We can go back to doing what we came here to do."

"Good," Quinn was already pressing into another kiss.

She relaxed back into the feel of Quinn's lips and the touch of her hands, pulling her closer until their bodies were flush against each other and Quinn was leaning into her again. Rachel's hands sank back into blonde hair, short nails scratching the back of Quinn's head in a way that made her sigh softly against her lips.

When they had to part briefly to breathe freely for a moment, she murmured, "So I'm, I mean _now_ is special then?"

"Now is something else." Quinn promised.

Two worries down.

Another train had her tensing all over again and laughing at herself. "It's busy out here for somewhere so remote. I didn't realize that Lima did so much rail business these days." She looked past Quinn through the window. "Are you sure these yards aren't still in use?"

"Completely sure. They're just passing through. Forget about them." Quinn pushed up, getting a knee under her so that she could shift over and straddle Rachel's lap. "The only thing you need to focus on is me."

To say suddenly having a lapful of Quinn Fabray was a surprise, wouldn't be a surprise to anyone (except maybe Finn, but if she wasn't allowed to talk about him there was no point in thinking about him either). Rachel shot back hard against the seat to begin with, shocked, until Quinn giggled at her reaction and drew her into another kiss. Rachel wriggled her butt a little, adjusting to the extra weight across her thighs, and just what was she supposed to do with her hands now? They hovered in the air, unsure where it was safe to land for the entire duration of a _long_ kiss.

Quinn sat back eventually, smiling teasingly. "Are you okay? Was this too much? Do we need to stop so you can take a cold shower?"

"Do you want to stop?" Rachel asked, mildly panicked by the thought.

"I don't." Quinn was about to kiss her again but pulled back as an afterthought struck her. "But that _doesn't_ mean I brought you out here to pop my lesbian cherry, either." Rachel didn't know which one of them froze first or the most. "Oh God, I . . ." Quinn began through a stiff jaw and then didn't add anything.

"I-I never thought . . ." Quinn was still rigid under her hands, staring straight through her. She wanted to make light of Quinn's words, put them both back at ease, but the look in Quinn's eyes was just too serious and she was scared of saying the wrong thing and ruining everything. "A-are you okay?"

Quinn's throat worked convulsively until she managed, "Yes."

"Are you sure? Quinn, I promise I never thought you brought me here to do _that_."

"It's not that." Quinn still seemed far away but at least she was speaking normally again. "I just . . . It only just hit me that you're a girl."

Rachel tried not to feel offended. She didn't do a very good job. "I know you've tried on countless occasions to strip me of my femininity, Quinn, but I find it hard to believe you ever seriously doubted my sex until now."

"Of course I _know_ you're a girl, Rachel." Quinn's harsh tone contrasted with the way light fingertips trailed over her cheek and then smoothed over her bottom lip (as if just making sure she'd been right!). "I've even talked myself down from a _big gay panic_ more than once since I started liking you as more than a . . . well, just liking you. But I never . . ."

"You never what?"

"There's just a big gap between admitting I might be a tiny bit . . .and, uh, acting on it. You know, like fully acting on it."

Rachel didn't get that. As soon as she'd realised she had a crush on Quinn she'd wanted to act on it. Maybe not in a popping lesbian cherries way _yet_ because it was obviously too soon for sex, but certainly her physical desires had been keeping up with her emotional ones.

"Doesn't making out count as acting on it?"

"Obviously. But I already know I like kissing you. And kissing is just . . . kissing. It's not . . . _Oh God,"_ Quinn's hand pulled away from her face and curled against her own chest. "It's not _more_ , Rachel. I can't do that. We can't do that." Quinn shook her head. "We are _not_ doing that."

Quinn's over-the-top head shaking and wide eyes would have been funny if Rachel didn't know how the other girl had a habit of lashing out when she felt scared; and speaking from experience she had maybe a minute before Quinn started calling her every horrible nickname under the sun and then bolted, leaving her in the dark freight yard all alone.

"I'm not asking for more," she said, as quickly and calmly as she could. "And if it makes you feel uncomfortable I never will. I just want to kiss you, Quinn. That's all. Nothing has ever made me feel like kissing you does. Nothing! And if that's all you want to do I'll gladly do _just_ that for . . . for the duration of our time together."

A little smile broke through Quinn's worried frown although she seemed to be trying for serious with a side of sarcastic. "Really? I know that you know that I'm hot, Berry. Are you seriously trying to tell me you aren't going to want _more_ at some point?"

Rachel smirked, "I'm telling you that I can resist for as long as you can."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. What makes you think I can't?"

"Just a little speech that you made at a certain Celibacy club meeting recently," Quinn's smile was wide and somehow the distant light winked off of her perfect teeth.

"I'm never going to escape that," Rachel groaned playfully.

"And coupled with the fact that I have a hundred percent abstinence rating . . ." Rachel made a deliberate show of looking down at Quinn's stomach before meeting her eyes with disbelief. "And we're done talking!"

Before she could argue Quinn was already kissing her again and shifting (wriggling really) in her lap in a way that felt just incredibly _. . . erotic._ Quinn's hands pushed up into her hair, running the dark strands through her fingers.

When they pulled apart for a second, Quinn smiled, "Does it make your head tingle too?"

"It makes my whole body tingle," she admitted before she could stop herself.

Quinn chuckled, "Yeah, I'm so going to win this whole resistance game."

Rachel pushed up, planting her lips over Quinn's, re-igniting their kiss. When Quinn was pressed against her tighter than they'd ever been before – seriously, she could feel every curve of Quinn against her own, and, _oh_ , cue light-headedness! – Rachel pulled back.

"You were saying?" she teased. "I have this – _you_ – in the bag."

"Don't get cocky. I still don't have sex, lesbian or otherwise, on the third date."

Rachel waited for her to freak out again, maybe at the word 'lesbian' but Quinn just pulled her closer. This kiss went on and on and one of Quinn's hands stayed in her hair and the other cupped her cheek, thumb stroking her skin lovingly, until her fingers strayed; down the side of her neck to dig into her shoulder. Rachel ran a hand up and down Quinn's arm, the feel of her skin awaking a new wildness within her.

"So then tell me, what _does_ it take to get near your pants?"

"Don't you mean _in_ my pants?"

Rachel smiled, "I was trying not to be _too_ forward."

"Well, firstly, I'm not wearing pants." She pointed to her Cheerios skirt. "And secondly, you don't need to know because that's never going to happen."

Rachel pulled her head back to properly look her in the eye. "Because you never _wear_ pants?"

Quinn lightly slapped her arm. "Rachel! Don't make me stop kissing you," Quinn threatened even as kissed her again.

"O-kamph," Rachel garbled against her lips and spent the next few minutes in paradise.

* * *

Quinn had never felt so much in just one hour as she had since pulling up in the Lima Freight Yards. Her thoughts, emotions and feelings were on a scary, chaotic ride and everything was careening out of control. The most unsettling part of it was . . .

. . . She was _loving_ it.

Rachel Berry! Of all the girls to fall for . . .!

She suppressed Berry's next words with her lips. Kissing her was, unfortunately, awesome. Listening to her right now wasn't so much. She could tell Rachel had a lot on her mind and because of that she wasn't quite as committed to the making out as Quinn was. That was annoying . . . and embarrassing. She had sort of resigned herself to the undeniable urge to kiss the girl, that's why they were here after all, but she needed Rachel to feel the same . . . no, to feel _more_ . . . to make it okay. Rachel wasn't giving her that, not completely.

Rachel seemed to like kissing her though. Quinn felt the moan as she sucked Rachel's bottom lip between hers. She felt Rachel shiver under her, but then she pulled back, her lip leaving Quinn's with a soft _plup_.

"It was really brave of you to stand up in front of everyone."

The breathlessness of the words and the unusually husky timbre to Rachel's voice distracted her enough that Quinn couldn't think what she was talking about to start with.

"Your speech. It was so brave."

"Thanks." She chuckled self-consciously. "I've never been so scared in my life!"

"Really?"

"Yeah." Rachel's hands had fallen to her hips and Quinn took them both in her own. "Trying out for the Cheerio's was scary but I knew I was ready for it. Auditioning for Glee was terrifying because I've sang for church before but never for something cool, you know?"

Rachel beamed, "You just called Glee club _cool._ "

Quinn frowned as she realised she had and then smirked, "I mis-spoke."

"Then what did you mean to say?"

"Let it go, Berry." Quinn gave her a stern glare and then pecked her on the lips – because she couldn't help herself – before sitting back again. "Singing my Kelly Clarkson number a couple of days ago . . . you have no idea how petrified I was about that."

"I do. I was really scared about mine too."

Quinn nodded, accepting that. They'd both put themselves out there in front of the entire Glee club. That meant something, right? Something important? It was why they were here now, however awkward it could prove to be.

"All of that scariness? Not a patch on how I felt tonight, but . . ."

"But?"

Quinn held a hand up to stop Rachel from rushing her. "But . . . when Britt threw the megaphone up to me the fear, well most of it, went away. I was . . . exhilarated. Like really and truly exhilarated. I was still nervous but it was like someone pushed a cherry-bomb up my nose and my brain just exploded."

"In a good way?" Rachel checked nervously.

Quinn squeezed her hands. "We're here, aren't we?"

Not that _here_ was the most romantic place on Earth. The only thing it had going for it was its emptiness. The view was hardly spectacular: a chain-link fence was close enough to see out of the back window but the tracks beyond were invisible in the night. Through the front the occasional passing car and a line of light poles twinkling through the trees marked the road.

Rachel got her point though and softly agreed. "We are."

She liked it when Rachel made the first move and met her lips eagerly. She was still holding Rachel's hands and pulled them up to pin either side of Rachel's head as they kissed. Rachel didn't seem to mind the constriction – in fact judging by her smirk and the way she raised her knees, causing Quinn to slide down her thighs and be trapped against her hips, maybe she even enjoyed it. Quinn released her hands without acknowledgement of the smirk, but she didn't do anything to remove herself from the intimately cosy position Rachel had initiated.

What? It felt nice.

Oxygen break. Not that she wanted to need one but Rachel's kisses _were_ that intense. "I honestly can't believe how much I like you."

Rachel beamed and Quinn balked at the fact her mouth had run away with her private thoughts. "That wasn't me. That was the baby talking."

"Aww, the baby likes me that much?"

"It's a fetus, I can't expect it to have good taste yet."

She didn't know why she was being a bitch. Habit maybe? Years of conditioning? Nerves?

Probably the last one, with a bit of the other two mixed in.

Thankfully Rachel just laughed, and if it sounded strained? Quinn was just happy she was prepared to fake a laugh and let her off the hook. "Well, anyway. Tell the baby I said thank you. I like it a lot too."

"Okay."

Quinn brought her hands around to softly cup Rachel's jaw, tilting her chin up as she brought her lips down, letting them slowly apologise for her. Rachel responded to the kiss but Quinn could tell she'd lost her, the other girl was back in her own head, thinking too much when her mind should have been focused solely on her.

Her fingers didn't leave Rachel's face as she pulled back enough to murmur. "Sorry. Knee jerk reaction to vulnerability. I'll work on it."

"At least you didn't call me RuPaul."

Quinn tried for a smile. "See, I'm already growing as a person."

She received a small one and kissed it gently. It only took Rachel pursing her lips in response for Quinn to lose herself in the feeling again. She could seriously do this all night; maybe she could not show up at the dance at all. It wasn't going to be as much fun as this anyway. Rachel was still only giving her fifty percent though. Damn, this girl was hard work!

She pulled back again to look Rachel earnestly in the eyes. " _I_ honestly can't believe how much I like you either."

Rachel waited a beat to see if there was going to be another retraction before giving her an award winning smile. "Now was that so hard?"

"Shut up." Quinn grinned. "And kiss me like you actually want to."

Rachel obliged and time stopped as they let their lips have free reign over their senses. Another train rushed by and they were so caught up they didn't even flinch. Truthfully, it didn't sound half as loud as Quinn's heartbeat did, or the heavy breathing drowning the car as they kissed beyond the point of oxygen deprivation and had to breathe through noses or against one another's mouths to avoid completely breaking the delicious friction between their lips.

It actually felt so good, so unexpectedly _great_ in fact, that Quinn was feeling it _everywhere_. She'd never felt a kiss _everywhere_ before, although on a few occasions already Rachel had aroused her – and apparently she had two big fat erogenous zones on her ears that she'd never known about before – but not like this. She tried to block out the way Rachel's still raised thighs were pressing against her butt, keeping them firmly smooshed together. She was going to do something embarrassing in a minute, where was a damn balloon when you needed one?

Kissing shouldn't have this much effect, surely?

Rachel was clearly dangerous. She was the devil! Or a fallen angel in the devil's employ, sent to drive her crazy until she gave herself to temptation. She was Eve, her kisses were the apple and Quinn was Adam . . . Why was she always the boy in her fantasies about Rachel? Not fantasies! Scenarios. Hot scenarios. This was definitely a hot scenario . . . and it wasn't even a fantasy because she was doing it!

Not doing it! She was not going to _do it_ , she was living it. Yes, that was better, she was living out a scenario with Rachel that happened to involve kissing, that was all.

A kissing scenario that made her want to _do it_!

She groaned aloud into Rachel's mouth, partly because her brain wouldn't cease with the 'doing it' talk, and partly because, well, she really _wanted_ to 'do it' and because she still had some semblance of control the lewd noise was her body's only way of expressing it.

Although that would change when she started dry-humping Rachel, so any second now.

She'd _never_ wanted to do it before. Not even really when she'd actually _been_ doing it.

When another train ran past, this one sounding its piercing whistle shortly after it had passed the car, Quinn didn't know whether she wanted to send the driver a thank you card or punch him in the face.

As Rachel laughed, eyes shining at the sudden shock and her mouth open wide as she tried to suck a decent amount of air back into her lungs to accommodate her beautiful, boisterous laughter, Quinn was leaning towards the latter.

"That was intense."

Quinn nodded, she literally couldn't find any words with her brain blanketed by unaccustomed lust.

"And wonderful," Rachel continued. "But . . ."

Quinn shook her head this time. "No but's tonight. We can have but's tomorrow. Tonight I just want intense and wonderful. We've earned it don't you think?"

"I do . . . but."

Clearly Rachel wasn't listening to her, so Quinn gave up on words again. There were other forms of communication she could use her mouth for.

Rachel let herself be carried away by her lips for a while, Quinn didn't know exactly how long considering she'd gone from zero-to-sixty the second they were kissing again and her brain was once again all fogged up with thoughts of more than kissing. But then she pulled back and Quinn made a growling noise deep in her throat.

"What?" she snapped, much more harshly than she'd intended.

Rachel looked hurt. "Quinn, don't be upset. I really enjoy kissing you, but I just don't think it's enough on its own."

Oh, was that all? Then that was an easy fix considering she was feeling the same. She had to smirk though, over-the-moon that Rachel had been the first to break, saving her the embarrassment of doing so.

"Didn't take you long to admit that, Berry." She pressed the smirk to Rachel's lips and the feel of them was enough to make her lose the smug attitude. "Mmm, I know. I agree. You're right. We-ah . . . shouldn't though . . . um . . . Not now . . . uh . . . we have to . . . um . . . be strong and . . . uh . . ."

What the hell was she even _trying_ to say? Who had let _Lucy_ out of her damn cage?

"Quinn!" Rachel whimpering her name against her lips was not helping!

"Okay," she said breathlessly. "Okay, more." She had to swallow hard. "More's okay, but only over the shirt tonight, okay?" She didn't know why she couldn't stop saying okay, considering she felt anything but okay. She'd never been more okay with not feeling okay in her life! "We don't want to . . . to go too fast . . . but it's a compromise . . . so, uh, just over the shirt?" Her voice lilted at the end, twisting her show of confidence into tremulous doubt.

"Whu . . ?" Rachel was suddenly like a statue beneath her.

"Rachel?" she whined, because while she could understand the enormity of this she really wanted it now the decision had been made.

Quinn kissed her again to bring her back to life. It worked on her lips but her hands were still motionless on Quinn's sides. Had she not understood or was she just scared? Desire making her brave, Quinn grasped Rachel's right hand in hers and lifted it to where she assumed the other girl wanted it to be.

Rachel gasped as her hand was pressed to Quinn's left breast and Quinn grinned as, " _Fudging Barbra, Quinn!_ " came out on a fast, ragged breath.

Letting go, Quinn leaned into kiss her again but ended up hissing against her lips instead when Rachel tentatively squeezed her. So good! She'd known . . . she'd _known_ it would be better with Rachel. Rachel's hand was the perfect fit.

She took a hard breath, trying to rise above the delectable sensations of Rachel's pressing, exploring hand. If she didn't she'd be ripping off her stiff, restrictive Cheerios top to feel it all so much more vividly.

"So, second base, Rachel. You like?" she asked with as much cool as she could manage.

"Right now I want to _kiss_ second base!"

Quinn's knees wobbled as she felt a hot flush travel the length of her body before regrouping between her legs.

"I didn't mean, like, _literally_!" Rachel realised what she'd said. "Please don't freak out. I just meant, you know, I like it so much I could kiss it. Not that I actually want to kiss your breasts!"

"You don't?"

"I-I-I don't know how to answer that without causing an adverse reaction of one kind or another."

Giggling, Quinn let her off the hook. "Don't strain yourself, Berry. You're not getting your mouth anywhere near them anyway. You're super lucky I'm even letting you feel me up."

"It _is_ unexpected, but a definite pleasure."

"Goes both ways," Quinn promised.

Rachel smirked," Not right now it's not."

"What?" It took her a second to catch on. "Oh."

 _Oh!_ Rachel meant . . . Okay, she could do this, she wanted to do this. Only . . . she'd never even touched Finn's nipples except through his shirt by accident. And Rachel had more than just nipples. Obviously.

"Right." She raised her hand slowly. So slowly that Rachel smirked again. "Don't look so cocky, I had to _put_ your hand where you wanted it."

"I can return the favor if you like?"

"No, I've got this."

Like she was ripping off a band-aid she abruptly lifted her hand those extra few inches and cupped Rachel's breast. _Wow_! As strong as her own reactions were they were over-rode by Rachel's.

"Gah!" She squeezed gently. "Oh, Buhb!" She stroked her hand to the side slightly so she could rub her thumb over the slightly raised nub beneath Rachel's sweater. "Ohmy . . . _Guh_!"

Unable to take it anymore Quinn crashed their lips back together in a heated kiss as she wriggled her other hand up between them to take the other breast. Rachel didn't get the silent but obvious message to do that same, but she kissed back so enthusiastically that it didn't really matter.

It wasn't long before it wasn't enough again. One step further wouldn't hurt would it? It would still be pretty innocent considering and it wasn't like she was letting a boy touch her this way. They were both girls, so really it wasn't that different to just touching herself . . .

Okay, aside from the fact that she _never_ touched herself like this, she shouldn't be allowed near anything requiring logic for the rest of the night, because clearly she was lacking the ability to use it properly. On the upside, the side of her brain she was thinking with right now didn't really care much for logic anyway and was way more interested in just feeling good.

"Okay, under the shirt," she mumbled against Rachel's lips, her own hands already dropping to the sweater hem.

Rachel hastily pulled back. "No!"

"What? Why?" Quinn was whining again and she didn't care.

"I just, we shouldn't . . ." Rachel snatched her hand away from Quinn. "This isn't . . ."

"What's wrong now?" she asked, growing impatient.

"This, what we're doing. This is what's wrong!"

"What's wrong with it? You seemed to be enjoying it two seconds ago."

"I'm scared, Quinn," Rachel admitted in a small voice.

"What's to be scared of? Did we hit second base too fast? I thought you wanted to."

"I did, I do . . . It's not that."

"Then what? You can't be scared of the kissing; we're not even using tongue for Heaven's sake!"

And why weren't they exactly?

"No, I'm not scared of kissing you . . . actually I'm terrified of it, but it's a good terrified, like that second you're about to step out on stage for a performance and there's nothing but anticipation and excitement and . . ."

"Kissing?" Quinn tried to steer her back on topic.

"Well, that part's new, but yes. But, what scares me . . . What happens tomorrow, Quinn? Tonight we're kissing and . . . and _touching_ each other." Quinn felt new threads of excitement trickle out of her. "But what happens in the morning? Will you be Dr. Jeckle or Miss Hyde? Do I get to pet your tummy or will you rip my throat out again?"

Quinn smiled, trying to alleviate her fears, because really she just wanted to get back to the kissing. "I really like you, Rachel."

"You really liked me a week ago too and yet I've had the worst week of my life because of you."

Another train rattled past, it's passage sent dead leaves and grit skittering against the trunk of the car but Rachel didn't even seem to notice it.

Quinn sighed impatiently. "I thought you'd forgiven me for that?"

"I have, but that doesn't mean I'm not wary about what comes next. I just need us to talk about it."

"And that has to be right now?"

Rachel hesitated, but said, "Yes. I'm sorry, but I need to."

Quinn pouted. "You're ruining second base for me, you know?"

Rachel smiled sheepishly. "I'm sorry. I'll fix it. But then can we have to talk?"

As Quinn raised a curious eyebrow, wondering how and more importantly _when_ Rachel was going to fix it, the other girl leaned in slowly and kissed her pout away. Oh, so _when_ was now, but it was going to take more than a sweet apology peck to save second base. Rachel's hands splayed over her abs, rubbing teasingly up and down over her uniform - _too_ teasingly – as the soft kiss went on.

Slowly the hands slid up, leaving the flat planes of her stomach for higher ground. Quinn made a satisfied noise when they were finally cupping her, getting to know her breasts as well as they could through the thick material of her top and pressed harder into the kiss, finally ready to deepen it, wanting to know what it felt like to have her tongue in Rachel's mouth.

She hesitated though, nervous for reasons she couldn't define, and it cost her. Rachel's lips moved away from hers before she could make the bold move.

"Not fixed yet," she tried. "You need to do better than that."

Rachel sounded amused, "I haven't finished yet."

She had way too much of the power in this relation . . . whatever this was. Quinn didn't even know how that had happened. All through the last month, as she'd gone from oblivious, to denial, to hating, to unwilling acknowledgment, to cautious tolerance, to tentative acceptance and to now, fully embracing the way she felt about Rachel, she had done her best to stay in control, to keep the upper hand and call the shots and a dozen other clichés that meant she was the one the wearing the pants in this rela . . . thing. It was even the major factor for why she had made her grand gesture at the game; she really had been taking the power back from Rachel, just not for the reasons Santana, and the rest of the school now, thought.

And yet somehow, she still didn't have it. Rachel-freaking-Berry had the ability to turn her into _whipped_ cream and it was completely unacceptable and if this re . . . arrangement of theirs was going to continue, Quinn had to turn the tide right now. Berry had to know her place and that place was not the place of the person in control of them.

If her thoughts were getting a little less well-expressed it was because Rachel was pressing tiny kisses across her cheek. And this was a prime example! Being kissed on the cheek shouldn't jumble her thought-process! This ended now!

"Berry."

"Mmm, did you just call me baby?"

Quinn watched a couple more brain cells flutter away on tiny wings.

Uh, had she? She was pretty sure she hadn't.

"No!" She was proud of the steel in her voice; it represented strength, power, control. "I called you Berry! As in, _Berry_ , you need to stop teasing me and kiss me properly or else. . ."

She should have been expecting it, they'd all been heading in that direction after all, but the kiss to her earlobe still took her by surprise and snuffed out the words about to come out of her mouth, replacing them with:

"Guh."

As in, Guh-od, that feels good.

She tilted her head down and to the side, not even caring that it implied she wanted Rachel to keep doing what she was doing. A sheet of hair fell over the side of her face and Rachel raised a hand to push it back. If Quinn could think beyond _'Oh, damn, she's sucking my earlobe now!'_ she would have complained out loud about how Rachel was leaving one of her breasts unloved, but when that hand started running through her hair again, fingers deftly keeping it back from her ear with each stroke she was too overloaded by the three different sensations at once that it no longer mattered anyway.

She was going to die from this, she was sure of it, but she was going to die _happy._

Her fists were balling in the hem of Rachel's sweater, pulling it tighter with every stroke, every lick, every tender squeeze and all she could do in return was breathe, and even that was difficult. Each breath louder, harsher, less successful at filling her lungs until she was panting hard against Rachel's shoulder. Something was happening to her. This couldn't be normal. To be this breathless, this hot, this dizzy, it just couldn't be normal. She was aching between her legs and it was a real and physical, excruciating throbbing and it scared her, because . . . because damn it, she liked it and she didn't want it to ever stop but at the same time she was desperate to relieve it.

If she only knew how.

"Did I fix it yet? Are you ready to talk now?"

The words were whispered so close to her ear that the breath that accompanied them made Quinn's eyes roll back and sent her hips forward. The tight space between Rachel's thighs and Rachel's stomach meant that they could only roll in place and, oh look at that, her body knew exactly what to do now to relieve the building pressure.

"No!"

Her tone made Rachel falter, clearly unhappy and possibly even hurt by the forceful demand. Screw it! Quinn didn't need to wear the pants as much as she needed Rachel to _not stop_!

"Rachel, seriously, keep doing what you were doing – all of it – please," she rushed out on a single breath.

Her desperation came through loud and clear. "O-okay!"

As Rachel's hands resumed their playing her tongue lathed Quinn's ear. Rachel was nervous now, she could tell, not really understanding the insistence. Quinn didn't even understand the urgency she felt, but she knew she was definitely feeling it.

"Oh, fuck, yeah just like that."

"You use the f-word far too much, Quinn."

If it wasn't for the way the words pleasured her wet ear she would have told her to shut the _fuck_ up, as it was she just rolled her hips against her again and it was all good.

"Honestly, you're not a sailor." Rachel's tongue swirled around the outer edge of her ear. "Or Santana or Puck." The tip swiped deep into the middle valley as the fingertips of Rachel's right hand focused unintentionally (or not maybe) over her straining nipple. Quinn's hips rolled again and the sweater was pulled even tighter into her hands. "A pretty girl like you doesn't need to use such vulgarities to get their point across."

'Pretty girl' caused another hip roll, for some reason 'vulgarities' did too. It was no longer helping though, if anything it was building the pressure deep inside her. She squirmed in Rachel's lap, rolled her hips some more and even deliberately bucked against her once, twice, and all it was doing was making the ache between her legs worse.

Rachel lathed her ear again and ran her first two fingers back and forth over the tiny tent Quinn's nipple was making in her Cheerio's top. Quinn whimpered and pushed herself against her.

Rachel didn't seem to notice. "I mean, I utilise the word 'fudge' on extreme occasions but there's really no call for anything stronger than that."

Quinn couldn't take any more. "Okay, Rachel, I get it! Now will you please put your _fudging_ tongue in my _fudging_ ear right this _fudging_ second."

"There's no need to be sarcastic."

"I'm not!" Quinn howled.

"Oh!"

Rachel's tongue stroked firmly against her ear and Quinn's hips jerked forward, brushing herself against Rachel.

"Like that?"

"No, more."

"Really?"

"Yes!"

"Only, more is going to sort of be me _fudging_ your ear with my tongue."

If Quinn hadn't been so on the edge she would have smiled at Rachel's joke. "I'm okay with that."

"Really?"

"Rachel!"

"Okay!" Rachel's tongue travelled up, down and around.

It felt awesome but she knew it could feel better, "Rachel, please?"

The tip of Rachel's tongue dipped inside.

"Oh, fu….nuh. Ohhh. Tell me this isn't weird, is this weird?" Her hips rolled again, Rachel's tongue _slithered_ around her ear. "Guh, like that, like th . . .!"

She was back to breathing too heavy to speak. It felt so . . . Her hips were rolling continuously now, because it made her feel awesome, but it wasn't . . . there just wasn't enough . . . there had to be a way to . . .

Quinn wasn't experienced when it came to this sort of thing. Hello, President of the Celibacy Club! She never let Finn get past second and she'd been drunk with Puck, but she spent a lot of time with the Cheerios and most of them were, well they were as promiscuous as Santana and Brittany. And they talked about it, all the damn time. So there was . . . stuff she knew, theoretically.

So, theoretically, she sort of knew what she was doing when she untangled a hand from Rachel's sweater and used it to grasp the hand sifting through her hair and pull it down. Rachel obviously didn't know what she was doing, even theoretically, and simply laced their fingers together as her tongue continued to make Quinn writhe against her.

"Rachel."

"Mmm?" was hummed into her ear.

 _Oh, God!_

Quinn dropped her head to Rachel's neck as her hips pushed forward again. She was lost to feeling now. Forget logic and reason and rational thought her pleasure centre had well and truly taken over and . . . and her centre needed more pleasure.

Running on pure impulse she brought their joined hands down between them and then pulled hers free. Rachel's shifted up to her abs, pressing and rubbing the twitching muscles through her top. It sent a shiver through Quinn, making her arch back a little, but it only served to make the ache _worse_. She took the hand again and pressed it down further, forcing the open palm against her bare thigh. Rachel gripped it lightly, making Quinn's eyelids flutter, and left her ear to reclaim her lips. Quinn moaned into her mouth – a sound that it would have mortified her to make once upon a time, like any time before right now – and arched again as she put her free arm around Rachel's neck, holding her close as they kissed.

And through it all Rachel still wasn't reading the subliminal messages and Quinn's frustration was only reaching new levels rather than being in any way released. It was overpowering. Too much and she still needed more. She needed something she couldn't articulate, something she couldn't even think about directly, but she really, really needed it.

And so she pushed Rachel's hand up her thigh and under the hem of her Cheerio's skirt just as another train thundered by, it's piercing whistle sounding right behind the car and stopping her heart with the sudden deafening shock of it.

It was more effective than an ice-cold shower and they both sprang back from each other but Quinn knew her eyes were wider, and not because of the train. _Oh God! What were they doing? What was_ she _doing?_

"No!" She pulled Rachel's hand away from her leg like she hadn't been the one to put it there.

"Stop!" She smacked Rachel's other hand away from her breast.

"Quinn, what's wrong?" Rachel's eyes had to be as wide as hers now and filled with worry.

"Nothing . . . nothing, just . . . stop touching me."

"Quinn?"

She was still sitting on her. She had to _not_ be sitting on her anymore! Her body, despite the terrifying whistle shower was still quivering with want and . . . and she . . . she just _couldn't_! Space; she had to get some space. Space _away_ from Rachel until she calmed down.

Her body still reacting to what she needed rather than what was sensible, she opened the back door and pretty much tumbled out onto the weed choked asphalt.

She heard Rachel hiss, "Quinn, you can't go out there! It might not be safe."

"Leave me alone, Berry!" As she rolled to her hands and knees she pushed the car door shut again. "And stay in there!"

Scrambling further away, she felt stone chips scrape her knees and welcomed the distraction the pain offered. Ten feet away from her car she stared at the grit beneath her for a minute, calming enough to get control of her thoughts and then she pushed up into a kneeling position and clasped her hands together in front of her.

"Okay, so that happened," she murmured, her voice barely audible even to her.

 _Yes._

"Or nearly, anyway."

 _It was touch and go there for a while._

"Yeah. So . . . this whole abstinence thing? It suddenly just got hard."

 _It wouldn't be a very thorough test of faith and commitment if it was always easy, would it?_

"But it always has been before!"

 _Welcome to adulthood, Lucy, and all of the responsibility that comes with it._

"Didn't I already get this speech when I fell pregnant?" she whisper-grumbled.

 _You're having a busy year._

Quinn ran a hand over her lips, they still felt tingly from kissing Rachel so much. Kind of like the first scratch of a mosquito bite, but in a good way and without the resultant scar.

Although kissing Rachel would probably lead to a few psychological scars!

No, she didn't _want_ to think like that.

 _You're scared._

"You think? We almost . . . no, _I_ almost took it too far. She makes me feel things I shouldn't feel."

 _No, she makes you feel things you're not_ ready _to feel, that's all._

"Is that better?"

 _Yes and no._

She rolled her eyes at her saviour. "That helps."

She heard Rachel roll the window down. "Quinn? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine!"

"Only, you've been out there for a while and I really don't think it's all that safe."

 _She cares about you._

"I know," she murmured. "I-I care about her too."

 _I know you do._

"But I lose myself around her."

 _No, Lucy, you don't. That's just an excuse."_

"An excuse for what?"

 _To give in to temptation or to run away from feeling something real. You choose. Find the middle ground and you can be happy._

"Find the middle ground," Quinn repeated. "So not give into temptation and not run away?"

 _No one said finding happiness was easy._

"Quinn, please? Anyone could be lurking out there!"

"Just give me a freaking minute, Berry!"

Much quieter, she added, "Okay, I can do that. I can handle this. I just need to make sure I keep in control of our . . . our situations."

 _That should be interesting seeing as she has all of the control right now._

Quinn's face fell. "You noticed that too?"

* * *

Rachel was completely and utterly confused. It was becoming a standard state of mind when dealing with Quinn but this time was just more intense than most.

The making out – the kissing and, uh, touching and, um, ear licking – had been awesome, but she'd really wanted to talk too. There was so much she still didn't understand about what was going on between them and she knew that the more they just delved into the (awesome) physical stuff the more confusing it would become.

Watching Quinn as she knelt ten feet away from the car with her back to her, muttering under her breath, Rachel knew she _really_ hadn't been wrong about that.

What was she doing out there?

Obviously Quinn was freaking out. Rachel could relate, she'd never expected her first ever make-out session to be so intense. They'd gone to second base for crying out loud! She was still in a state of excitement over that.

Literally, her underwear was kind of _sticking_ to her.

She shifted on the seat to make it stop, but it didn't.

So, yes, she was freaking out too . . . but she wasn't on her knees ten feet from the safe environment of the car!

She'd finally found her rape whistle, buried deep beneath her sweater and t-shirt, and sat with it between her lips as she checked every dark corner of the freight yard – so all of it, basically – over and over while she waited for Quinn to finish up whatever she was doing.

Quinn's reaction didn't bode well and Rachel was bracing herself to be let down; and probably not in a nice way. And trying to come up with counter-arguments to whatever reasons Quinn might have for calling their thing off wasn't easy when she was busy looking for danger in every shadow.

So she shifted her mind back to the conversation they needed to have instead. If they ever got a chance to have it, or need it. Rachel needed some commitment from Quinn. Some kind of promise that letting her in would be worth it and would not result in a world of pain.

She needed that and until she got it she couldn't indulge her anymore. She didn't want to be awkward or mean, but Rachel was ready to go all in, and she needed _at least_ half of that kind of assurance back before she could let herself be vulnerable to Quinn again.

* * *

"I need to get back in the car."

 _Yes_

"Okay. It's going to be okay." She sighed heavily. "But, _Jesus_ , she's like temptation personified!"

 _Are you are not equal to the challenge?_

"Of course I am! But . . ." Quinn shook her head. "No, I can do this. A little Divine Intervention wouldn't hurt though! You could help me out here."

 _Who do you think was driving that train?"_

"Oh. Okay. Thank you." She thought about it for a second. "You couldn't have given me five more minutes?"

…

"Yeah, let's just forget I said that," Quinn smirked as she stood up and then winched. Her knees really hurt now! "Thanks. Amen."

As she walked to the car she saw Rachel hovering half out of the back window with her infamous rape whistle between her lips. Why did she have to be so adorable? Shaking the thought away she opened the drivers' door and slipped into the seat. The keys were still in the ignition and the engine purred to life with a twist.

"Are you staying back there, or do you want to ride up front like a big girl?" she asked into the rear-view mirror, not able to help the mild sarcasm tainting her words.

Rachel pushed through the gap and fell into the passenger seat, whistle still in her mouth.

"Seatbelt."

Rachel spit the whistle out and tucked it back under her clothes. "I'd like it if we could talk now before we go."

"No."

Rachel crossed her arms sulkily until Quinn pulled away and then she hurried to put her seatbelt on. As soon as it was snapped safely into place her arms refolded.

"You promised!"

"No I didn't."

"Quinn, we need to have a conversation about this."

"About what?"

"About us!"

Quinn kept her eyes on the road, taking the shortest route to Rachel's house. "Rachel, there is no _us_."

"How can you say that? Before I almost would have agreed despite the growing evidence suggesting otherwise, but after this week, after _tonight,_ how can you honestly say this isn't something?"

She hadn't meant it like that! And she was still freaking out about what they'd almost done. Rachel needed to learn to cut her a little slack.

"Look, I agree we like each other, and we . . . we seem to click physically, but that doesn't mean there's an _us_."

Quinn honestly didn't know if she was saying this stuff to claw back some control or because she was scared to think that there might be an 'us' in the near future. A couple-term that surely implied more than she was 'ready for' even if it was something she kind of liked the idea of in a purely abstract way.

"I know that. I know I'm not your girlfriend. But that's my whole point. I don't know what we are. Or who I am to you. Or where we go from here." Rachel quietly added, "And I need to."

Quinn cleared her throat. "I don't have the answers to any of those questions."

"That's why I think we need to talk about it, to discuss it together."

At least she had an answer to that, and she owed it to Rachel to give it to her straight. "I'm not ready to tonight. It's been a long day and my head is all over the place."

Rachel sat back in her seat and stared out of the passenger window. She didn't even put the radio on, leaving them in an uncomfortable silence. Quinn wanted to ask what she was thinking but that would negate her whole not wanting to talk about it thing, so she kept her mouth firmly closed and her eyes on the road ahead.

For the first time ever she was pleased that Lima was such a small town. It only took fifteen minutes to get to Rachel's. Quinn pulled into the driveway and deliberated over whether to cut the engine or not. She didn't want to give Rachel a reason to stay in the car but at the same time it felt rude to sit outside the house with her engine running even for a few minutes.

In the end she chose to turn it off and the car was engulfed in silence. Rachel didn't move, or even look at her, still staring out of the passenger windows at the colourful potted plants that ran along that side of the property.

"Do you, uh, do you want me to walk you to the door?"

"Are you that desperate to get rid of me?"

She'd just thought it would be a nice thing to do! And it seemed natural, she'd done it the last two times they'd been out after all.

"No, I was just asking."

"Oh."

They sat in silence for longer than it took the dashboard lights to fade out.

The security lights above the garage went out a minute later and still neither of them had said spoken.

Rachel was fixated on a tub of long-stemmed plants with petals a dark pink in the low glow of the street lights. "You need to go, I should get out."

Although, _yeah_ , Quinn didn't say anything and Rachel didn't get out.

Rachel's hand's fidgeted in her lap. "I enjoyed out time together this evening, Quinn."

Oh, God, so had she. Too much! That was the problem.

She just murmured, "Me too."

"Really? You earlier actions spoke otherwise."

Quinn smirked, on the inside at least. "My earlier actions were a direct result of how much I was enjoying our time together."

"That doesn't make any sense."

She shrugged.

"In that case, I know you don't want to talk, but can I least ask why you felt the need to throw yourself out of the car and stay out there for so long?"

She shrugged again, sheepishly this time. "I needed some face-time with Jesus. Well, not actual face-time obviously but . . ."

Rachel finally turned to her, annoyed. "If you didn't want to tell me the truth you could have just said so. The least you can give me is honesty, Quinn."

"I wasn't lying!" she half-shouted, getting annoyed too.

"Oh, so what, you were praying?" Rachel asked sarcastically.

"Okay, I've had enough of you for one night, Berry. Get out."

She didn't and her eyes narrowed and then opened wide. "You really were?"

"Yes! Now get out of my car."

"I'm sorry! Quinn, I'm sorry. I sometimes forget that . . ."

When she trailed off it was Quinn's turn to narrow her eyes. "Forget what?"

Unlike her, Rachel didn't back down from the tough questions. "That you're a person of devout faith. You're less than Christian attitude towards me most of the time makes it easy to overlook."

There was an extremely nasty retort on the tip of her tongue, but Rachel was right about her less than Christian attitude towards her, so she swallowed it. Sort of.

With a straight face and a heavy heart, she said, "Homosexuality is a sin, Rachel. How could I treat you in a Christian way when you've been brought up in an immoral household? How could I show kindness to someone with a depraved background?"

Rachel's eyes glistened and she turned to reach for the door handle. Quinn grabbed her arm and pulled her back around.

"Get off of me!"

"I _don't_ believe that! I didn't believe that even _before_ I fell for . . . started liking you, Rachel! Do you honestly think I could enjoy kissing you so much if I did? But that is what I've been conditioned with and that's why you were such an easy and obvious target when we met. You want to throw my lack of Christian attitude in my face? I can accept that; I know I've been horrible to you. I'm just telling you why."

"You can _accept_ that?" Rachel scrubbed her knuckles beneath her eyes. "Can you accept that _you_ are a depraved homosexual too?"

Quinn's lips quirked in an uncomfortable half-smile. "I can accept that I _might_ be."

Rachel surprised her by calming down completely and nodding. "Do you think you can ever see yourself in a real lesbian relationship?"

Quinn grew hot with an embarrassed flush. "Um, I'm not sure what that even entails exactly, I've never thought about it and it's . . . its way too soon to be thinking about that. I don't even know if I really am . . . one of those and I'm not ready to decide one way or another, not yet . . . not when I have _so_ many other things to think of." Her hand fluttered subconsciously over her stomach but as she looked up at Rachel to see disappointment in her dark eyes she helplessly added, "But if you were the other girl . . . maybe, I don't know, but maybe," she finished with another sheepish shrug. Silence fell for a lifetime. "Uh, what about you?"

"Yes."

Well that was to the point and yet still as vague as anything.

More silence.

"Okay, well I should go in now. Thank you, Quinn, for the ride home. I hope I haven't made you too late to enjoy the party."

"No, it's fine."

Rachel still wasn't moving, and Quinn didn't want her to go but she didn't know what else was left to say either. They'd already gotten more into 'talk' territory than she'd wanted to.

"So, um . . ." Rachel began and ended with.

"Yeah, so."

"I should, um . . ."

Rachel hadn't opened the door yet but she was shifting in her seat, closer to the edge but the wrong edge for getting out. Her eyes were fixed studiously on a point just beyond Quinn's head but it was only as she inched closer that Quinn suddenly recognised the nervous move for what it was.

They could kiss goodnight, right? That would be okay. It wasn't like she was about to lose her inhibitions in the Berry driveway for goodness sake. A goodnight kiss was fine.

She still had her seatbelt on, but she leaned in until it locked up, letting Rachel know she wanted it too. Rachel couldn't bite away her smile as much as she tried.

"We still need to talk," she murmured as she leaned even closer.

"We will," Quinn promised.

Their lips were almost touching but thank God, Quinn hadn't closed her eyes yet. A bright orange-yellow rectangle suddenly opened up in front of her and she pulled back.

"What's wrong now?" Rachel half-whined, half-snapped.

"Uh, company." Quinn waved a hand to indicate as she tried to calm her frustration at the missed-kiss.

Rachel turned to see her dads' framed in the porch light. "They always have had terrible timing."

Quinn smiled, but it faltered when LeRoy recognised the car and came over in his slippers and towelling robe. She buzzed the passenger window down as he approached.

"Hi, Dad. You remember Quinn?" Rachel rushed out.

"Of course, how are you, Quinn?"

She'd never been so grateful of all of those years of good manners being drummed into her. "Very well, thank you, Mr. Berry? How are you?"

"All good, Quinn. Although I'm a little disappointed in you . . ." Quinn's heart stopped, convinced that he somehow knew she'd been defiling his little girl in a train yard. Or trying to be defiled by his little girl in a train yard! ". . . You haven't been by. Are you really that scared to arm wrestle me?"

Relief made her laugh out loud, which made Rachel turn to her and smile.

"Not at all, Mr. Berry. I've just been biding my time."

The man grinned, "Well, Rachel's Daddy was just about to make cocoa so if you wanted to come in for some we could settle this once and for all."

Quinn's smile fell. "I, uh."

"Quinn doesn't want to come in for cocoa, Dad."

"No, I totally would." Nothing sounded better than cocoa with Rachel right now, but she had to stop giving in to her impulses around the girl. "But my boyfriend, Finn, is waiting for me to join him at the Homecoming dance. I just wanted to make sure Rachel got home okay first."

LeRoy gave her a curious look. " _Finn_ 's your boyfriend?"

"Dad, not now!" Rachel muttered.

She put their reactions together pretty easily. So Rachel had told her parents about her crush on Finn. No big deal. She'd totally pegged Rachel for the kind of girl who told her parents everything.

But wait, did that mean she'd told her parents about her crush on _her_ too?

Crap!

She suddenly felt an overwhelming need to impress . . . and an equally overwhelming need to get the hell out of there!

"Uh, yes, he is, but we're not that, uh, serious or anything."

"But you're having his baby?" Hiram sounded more confused than disapproving but it didn't put Quinn at ease.

"Yes but . . .! I mean, obviously we're serious now, but, uh, the baby was, um, we didn't mean to get, uh . . ."

" _Dad_ , Quinn's personal life is none of your business! Leave her alone!"

' _I think I love you, Rachel Berry!'_

"I wasn't trying to poke my nose in," he promised, hands held up in surrender.

"I know, its okay. It's just not an easy topic of conversation."

"I understand. So, honey, are _you_ coming in?"

"I'll be there in just a moment."

No, Quinn couldn't take anymore tonight; she was already over-loaded. "Rachel, you should go in with your Dad. I really have to go anyway."

Rachel looked hurt by the dismissal. "If you say so."

"I can see you tomorrow though," she offered before she could stop herself.

The smile was back. "You can?"

"Sure. I don't have any plans. I'll come over and we can hang-out."

Rachel's eyes darkened and there was a breathy giggle laced through her reply. " _Oh really_?"

Crap, she hadn't meant it like _that_! At least it was too dark in the car for Hiram to notice they were both suddenly blushing furiously.

"Uh, yeah or something. If you wanted."

"I do want, but do not forget we have that thing to talk about first." Rachel was facing her so only Quinn saw the way she closed her eyes tight at her slip. "About hanging out? We need to talk about that first, before we, uh . . . hangout and . . ."

"Rachel, I wanted to get to Homecoming while I'm still a sophomore."

At the derailment Rachel seemed to realise she'd been rambling in front of her father and blushed again. "Of course. Have a nice time, Quinn."

She opened the door, stepped out of the car and closed it softly behind her. Quinn thought she was going to leave with just a little wave as she moved to her Dad's side, his arm going around her shoulders as they walked together towards the house. But as she was about to turn the key in the ignition, Rachel startled her by dashing back to the car and leaning through the still open passenger window.

"Are you really going to come over tomorrow, Quinn?"

She chuckled softly. "Yes, Rachel. I'll come over at ten."

"Okay. Bye, Quinn." She dropped her voice to a whisper, "I wish I could give you a real kiss goodnight, but as I can't I'm going to do it with my eyes instead."

"What does that mean?"

What it meant, apparently, was Rachel giving her the hottest look she'd ever seen in her life. It was enough to make Quinn's body start reacting to her all over again, especially when those dark, sultry eyes dipped to her mouth and Rachel licked her lips as Quinn's tongue darted out to wet her own suddenly parched lips and, _oh God_ , why did it feel like they'd just _French-kissed_ from three feet away!

Maybe she'd been wrong. If just _this_ was making her want to drag Rachel back into the car and lock the doors so her Dad couldn't save her, then how was she ever supposed to control herself. Maybe the temptation Rachel provided was too much of a challenge for her chastity after all.

She should probably test that theory immediately. Test her strength of conviction and faith. It did no good to shy away from these things. You had to prove you were equal to the trials sent your way. You had to stand up to the lions even if the result was getting eaten alive.

Cocoa suddenly sounded a lot better than Homecoming. Especially if they could drink it in Rachel's room. Actually she didn't need the cocoa, she'd just grab an empty mug on the way to the stairs for appearances sake. Although, the taste of Rachel's mouth would go amazing with a hint of chocolate . . .

As Quinn was about to take her seatbelt off, Rachel, completely oblivious, stopped eye-kissing her and gave her a bright smile. "Drive safe, Quinn. See you tomorrow!"

And then she was skipping back to her Dad and the open front door.

Quinn dropped her forehead to the steering wheel with a drawn-out groan.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you for your patience. Just missed getting this posted as a Christmas gift, but I hope everyone enjoys opening it anyway.

 **Chapter Two:**

 **In the Now, Crushed Between The Future and The Past.**

By ten past ten the following morning, Rachel stopped eagerly waiting by the front door and went back up to her room. She wasn't worried yet; it was only ten minutes and not everyone was as punctual as she was.

By twenty past ten, she stopped her relentless pacing and stamped her foot lightly into the soft carpet, before she turned on her computer and drummed her fingers on the desk while she waited for it warm up.

By half-past ten, she knew Quinn hadn't tried to communicate with her through either Facebook or MySpace.

By twenty-to-eleven, she had accepted the fact that she had been stood up and was laying on her bed, staring listlessly at her ceiling and wondering why she was even surprised.

By ten-to-eleven, she was writing an impassioned rant in her journal about fickle, closeted blondes and how she was never having anything to do with them – especially a certain one of them – ever again. For real, this time.

By eleven o'clock, she was dotting a significant page in last year's Thunderclap with her tears and wondering why she let herself fall for this crap over and over again.

* * *

Quinn was making it slowly across town because she didn't want to have to turn back, and the last time she'd put her foot down she'd nearly hurled all over the steering wheel. Although, maybe she should just turn around and stay turned around. Rachel was going to be pissed that she was late already and turning up like this wasn't going to win back any favor.

With last night still fresh in her mind, and the confrontation she'd had that morning with her father even fresher, and with little sleep in between, she was in a terrible mood. She really wasn't up to any of the big discussions Rachel was bound to insist on, but at the same time she didn't want Rachel to think she'd just completely stood her up. So Quinn continued to drive, right hand resting for most of the time on her swirling stomach and her teeth firmly gritted against the bile burning the back of her throat.

Despite her conflicting feelings, she had never been more pleased to pull into the Berry's driveway and finally make her way towards a bathroom . . . uh, towards Rachel, she meant, obviously.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

* * *

At twelve minutes past eleven the doorbell rang.

Rachel looked up but didn't move. It was probably Mrs. Samuchi from across the street, who often called in at this time on the weekends to have coffee with her Dads. She was one of the few neighbours that was genuinely congenial to the Berry family, but Rachel couldn't face her today.

She didn't want to have to face anyone today.

The doorbell rang again, for a little longer this time. Mrs. Samuchi wasn't normally so insistent and surely she'd see that the car was missing. Maybe someone was delivering a package? Or maybe Mr. Donald had lost his troublesome dog again and wanted Rachel's help finding the little runaway.

She took a moment to reflect on how sad her life was, when the only people she could think might call on her was a middle-aged divorcee from across the road and a crotchety old man who hated her Dads but relied on Rachel as the only person who could ever find his disobedient terrier.

She couldn't leave Kirby out there to suffer though, so she wiped her cheeks of tears and slowly made her way to the stairs.

She was on the second step when someone leaned on the doorbell, causing it to ring continuously. It jolted her out of her stupor and she ran down the rest of the stairs. What if someone's house was on fire! And what if she'd taken so long to answer the emergency call that they lost all of their worldly possessions _because of her_!

Wrenching open the front door, out of breath from the panic as much as the dash down the steps, she saw the last person she was expecting on the other side.

"Hey."

"Quinn! I thought..."

Rachel tried to shake her surprise away, but what did she do now? She was conflicted over what her next move should be. If it had been anyone else turning up over an hour later than their pre-arranged meeting time she wouldn't have hesitated to show her displeasure over their lack of common courtesy but… but she was just so happy that Quinn was here at all. She'd really managed to convince herself that the blonde had changed her mind about them hanging out today – or about them entirely – and that had been the reason for her not showing up. In fact if she was honest, she'd been worrying about that long before the clock ticked past ten because surely after the heat of last night Quinn was due a another cold spell.

But here she was! Right here on her doorstep as promised and looking, well pale and impatient actually.

"So can I come in?"

"Oh, sorry! Of course," she stepped to the side and held the door wide open for her. "Excuse my bad manners. It's the shock. I thought you might have changed your mind, you see, because of your late arrival."

"Yeah, sorry. Something came up," Quinn gave a grim smile. "Actually a lot of things came up."

Rachel returned it with sympathy, "Oh, then your tardiness is completely understandable and forgiven. Are you feeling better now at least?"

"No."

"Oh."

"Could you shut the door?"

As soon as it clicked closed Quinn had hands on her shoulders and was pushing her back against it, nose dropping to Rachel's neck in the same instant.

"Uh, Quinn!" Chuckling, Rachel pushed her gently away.

"What?" Quinn stepped back, nervously looking around, "Are you Dads' home? I saw there was no car and I assumed…"

"No, they're out; playing Squash, or badminton, or tennis… something with a racket anyway."

"Then what's wrong?" Quinn was already stepping into her space again, her taller frame giving Rachel no choice but to stay against the door, "I thought this was okay now? You said it was."

Rachel kept her nose at bay with a hand on her cheek, "It is, but don't I at least get a kiss hello first?"

"Seriously? Do you have to be _that_ needy? I thought boys were bad enough."

"I… I…" Hurt and confused, and not understanding what she had done so wrong to cause the sudden anger in Quinn's eyes, Rachel didn't know what to say.

Quinn lightly shook her head, muttering, "I'm sorry." She pressed a hand to her stomach and took a deep breath, "Ignore me."

"Oh!" Rachel got it now, "Come here."

She half expected Quinn to refuse now on principle but her need was obviously too great and she greedily pushed her nose against Rachel's neck.

Rachel couldn't relax now but she tried to help the other girl by running a soothing hand up and down her back. It worked, slowly, and eventually Quinn's hands moved from gripping her upper-arms tightly to resting gently on her shoulders. Soon, her breathing changed from harsh, annoyed huffs to deep, even breaths – in through her nose, of course, and out from her mouth.

Rachel spoke up again as soon as she felt it was safe to do so, "Quinn, I . . ."

"Okay, okay, fine!"

Quinn swiftly picked up her head and kissed her 'hello,' but the contact was hard enough that Rachel could feel teeth behind her lips, and emotionally it felt more like a smack than a kiss.

Rachel pulled her head back and raised her hand to her mouth to see if she was bleeding. Quinn's head was already buried back in her neck before she could see that, no she wasn't.

"Quinn?"

"What now?" Was growled against her shoulder, "What else could possibly be wrong, Berry?"

"You're attitude for one thing. While I don't mind in the slightest helping you in this way, or in any way, I do expect at the very least a little civility in return. Obviously something must have upset you for your behaviour towards me to change so much overnight and so I am trying to give you the benefit of the doubt, but I would find it a lot easier to do if you could tell me what is going on."

"Nothing's going on. I just feel sick and you yammering in my ear isn't helping."

Rachel bit her tongue against a retort and took a calming breath, "Did something happen last night after you left?"

"Oh no, last night was a blast!" Despite being muffled, the sarcasm came through loud and clear.

"Something happened at the dance, didn't it?" Rachel had expected it would.

Not even Quinn Fabray could stand up and make a speech like she had and not expect some fall out. Rachel thought she had been very brave to face everyone afterwards, but she'd also mentioned that it might be a little foolish and maybe it would have been wise to let everyone have a weekend to get it out of their systems, but Quinn had insisted that not showing up at all would only make it look like she had something to hide. Something to be ashamed of.

Maybe it hadn't been the fool proof plan Quinn had hoped.

"What happened? Did someone say something to you?"

Quinn tore away from her and wouldn't meet her eyes, "If I wanted to talk, I'd hire a therapist. Do you have a bathroom down here?"

"Uh."

"Quick, unless you want me to hurl on your feet!"

Rachel pointed to the other side of the foyer, "Through that door there. Do you want me to…"

Quinn was already rushing away. "No!"

* * *

Kneeling on the floor of the half-bath, Quinn beat herself up mentally as her stomach beat her up physically.

She knew she was being unnecessarily mean to Rachel but she couldn't help it. She just felt so sick and she didn't want to talk about anything, especially last night. Every time Rachel opened her mouth, even to make the most innocuous comment, Quinn was assaulted with memories she wished had been robbed from her by the alcohol. But no, they were all still startlingly clear, especially the worst of them. And how could she share them with Rachel? At best they'd make her feel bad and then she'd want to discuss them in that reassuring yet patronising tone she had when she was sure she was right and everyone else was wrong.

Quinn didn't want to be reassured and she didn't want to get into an argument about it. One that would probably involve her yelling about how this _was_ _all Rachel's fault_! That her social life was teetering on the precipice because she'd been stupid enough to give Rachel what she'd wanted. That she wished she'd had the sense to let Rachel go instead of giving into her feelings. Feelings that she'd never wanted in the first damn place but she was stuck with. Feelings that made her make speeches to half the school about trying to kiss another girl, because she was so stupidly desperate to keep that girl wanting to kiss her.

It was all Rachel's fault that she was an emotional wreck right now, but she couldn't _tell her_ that.

She just wanted to work through it on her own and come to whatever conclusion she did without Rachel's wounded input. It would be easier in the long run, for both of them.

If only she could make the other girl see that just being here was hard enough; that it was already a major triumph over her deeper fears and that she was fighting against so many voices telling her she shouldn't be here just so that the one little voice telling her it was okay could be heard.

She just had to find a way to communicate that to Rachel without, you know, actually having to say it.

After ten minutes, she felt like she could safely leave the washroom. After rinsing her mouth out at the sink she let herself back into the foyer. Rachel was standing exactly where she'd left her and looked up nervously to meet her eyes.

Taking a steadying breath and straightening her shoulders, Quinn forced herself to smile a little as she walked up to take her hand.

"Sorry about that."

Rachel squeezed her hand, "That's okay. It's not like you could help it. Did you want to go and hang-out upstairs now?"

Quinn tensed slightly; it wasn't that Rachel's tone had been suggestive or anything but maybe it was better not to give her any false hope.

"Maybe it's better if we don't, what with your parents not being home."

Rachel frowned, "What difference does that make?"

She shrugged uncomfortably, "Well, I'm not allowed boys in my room when my parents aren't home. I assumed you had a similar rule."

Rachel grinned and Quinn realised that instead of not giving her false hope, she'd given her ideas instead.

"But you're not a boy and I have no rules about girls being allowed in my room."

"That's a little short-sighted of your gay parents."

Rachel's grin grew, "It's a loophole I'm happy to take advantage of."

"I'm not really in the mood, Rachel."

Her hand was squeezed again. "That's okay. We can just watch a movie or something."

"No! I mean, yes we can watch a movie, but can we do it downstairs?"

"Why is this a big deal?"

Quinn shrugged and didn't say it was a big deal because when the nausea finally passed – if it ever did today – that it wouldn't take long for sitting with Rachel on her bed to get her in the mood and she didn't _want_ to be in the mood. She didn't want the opportunity to kiss Rachel today, she didn't even want to think about it, and yet, even feeling as horrible as she was, she couldn't stop.

Yet she knew she shouldn't, not until she'd made peace with it.

"I can't explain."

"Can you explain anything?" Rachel asked, growing impatient again.

"Do you have a family room? Can we go there?"

"Of course we do! Fine, come along."

Rachel tugged her by the hand across the foyer, halfway down a short hallway and through an open door on the right. A giant TV screen was the focal point of the room with a two-seater and three-seater couch – both in faux-leather cream – angled to face it.

"Pick a movie," she pointed out a cabinet filled with DVD's, "I'll make snacks."

Quinn's stomach lurched at the mention of food but she didn't stop Rachel from leaving. After a few minutes of perusing the cabinet, she picked out _Marley and Me_ and _Mr and Mrs Smith_ and then left them by the side of TV for Rachel to make the final choice. Then she took a seat on the two-seater. It was comfortable, almost squishy, not like the couches at home. She let her head drop against the back, silently praying for the sickness to go away.

' _It's not like I meant to do it!'_

 _But you knew, deep down you knew, that's why you kept going back for more._

' _I was thirsty!'_

 _You wanted to run away from your problems._

' _It didn't work.'_

 _It never does._

' _It made more.'_

 _It did._

' _I'm sorry.'_

 _I know._

She murmured, "Amen." It always felt important to say that bit out loud, and then she opened her eyes to see Rachel watching curiously from the doorway, "What?"

Rachel slightly recoiled from the harsh tone, "I didn't mean to intrude."

Quinn lowered her eyes, if she wasn't careful she'd push Rachel away completely, or cause an ultimatum which would call for another speech.

"You weren't, I was just thinking," she forced another smile and nodded at the selected DVD's, "You get final say."

Rachel set a bowl of popcorn and another of chips down on the glass coffee table between the couches, along with a couple of bottles of water, and went to look at her choices.

"Ah, is this a test to see where my allegiances lay?"

Quinn cocked an eyebrow, "What?"

"You're trying to find out if I'm Team Aniston or Team Jolie."

"Oh, God, I've had enough of _teams!_ " Quinn groaned.

"Sorry, I didn't mean…"

She hadn't meant it to come out like she was annoyed, "No, that was just a joke. Relax, Rachel."

"I'm finding that rather hard right now."

Quinn ignored that, "I just think Brad Pitt is hot, okay? And, huh, Jennifer Aniston too, I guess. Wow, I never realised that before. You really are turning me gay."

Tears stung the corners of her eyes despite her light-hearted intentions.

Rachel didn't seem to notice and gave her a shy half-smile, "I was named after her character on _Friends_ , you know?"

Quinn smiled back, and for the first time all morning she didn't have to force it, "Then that might explain a few things."

Rachel turned away but not before Quinn saw her smile grow. She felt the tension between them ease and it felt better than anything had since leaving Rachel the night before. This was why she knew she was making the right decision; why ignoring her fear was the right way to go no matter how hard it was.

As Rachel selected _Marley and Me_ , obviously eager to keep her as gay as possible, Quinn moved over slightly on the couch to give her room to sit down. Only, maybe she was the only one who felt a little better, because as soon as Rachel had the remote in her hand she sat down on the three-seater instead, as far from her as she could.

Quinn didn't voice her disappointment but as she watched Rachel pull up the menu and press play she felt her hurt expression spoke volumes. If Rachel noticed it, she pretended not to.

She suffered through the first ten minutes of the movie in silence before she couldn't take it anymore. Getting up, she ignored Rachel's startled expression as she walked over and sat down as close to her as possible. Any closer and she would have been sitting on her lap. Not that she would have minded sitting on her lap, but she would probably squash her or something.

Rachel's eyes were already back on the TV as she tried to ignore how close she was but Quinn could feel Rachel's apprehension in the stiffness of her body as she pressed into her.

"Relax, Rachel," she tried again.

"I thought you weren't in the mood," even her voice was taut with anxiety.

"I'm not in the mood to make out but . . . uh."

"You still feel unwell?"

"Yes," she admitted, although as much as that she just wanted to be close to her.

"Okay," still without looking away from the screen, she shifted her position slightly so that Quinn could lean in close enough to have access to her neck.

Quinn took the offer, shifting around a little until she could see the screen at the same time. Rachel was like a plank of wood against her side.

"Please relax, Rachel."

"How can I," Rachel murmured, "when I don't know what I'll do next to flip your switch back to bitch?"

Quinn almost laughed, but thankfully caught it in time because she just knew that wouldn't go over well right now.

Instead she took Rachel's furthest hand and pulled it across her body until she could rest it against her own stomach.

"See? No throat ripping."

"For now."

"I'm on edge today," she admitted, "but I'm still Dr. Jekyll. Or Mr. Hyde? Which one of those is the nice one anyway?"

Rachel chuckled softly and her hand finally relaxed in Quinn's grip, "I don't really know."

"Well, whichever, I'm not mad at you okay? I know it probably seems like I am, but I'm not."

"Then who are you mad at?"

"Everyone but you. Me mostly."

"Why?"

Quinn shook her head, "Can we just watch the movie?"

Rachel nodded and tried to pull her hand back to her own lap, but when Quinn didn't let her, she didn't try a second time. Smiling, Quinn snuggled into her neck.

* * *

Thirty minutes in, Quinn excused herself to go back to the downstairs bathroom. Rachel sighed, stretching back against the couch and wondering why she wasn't working this time. She always worked! Was that the reason Quinn was being so stand-offish today? Because she was no longer a cure, therefore starting the countdown for when Quinn wouldn't need her anymore and then she'd have no reason not to move on and forget this had ever happened between them?

She'd always known it was stupid to get invested in Quinn. Long before last night had made it feel like it was okay to fall into this, she'd known that letting go would only open the door for heartbreak, so she had no excuses for allowing it to happen anyway.

That didn't mean she wasn't terrified about it.

Quinn was hiding something from her, and she didn't know what or why, but just the fact that she wasn't telling was enough to make Rachel worried. Between that and the back and forth of her mood so far today, Rachel didn't know what to think or what to expect. She needed Quinn to be honest with her and she needed her to stop constantly running hot and cold and most of all, she needed to know where she stood.

Rachel didn't want to think the worst, but she needed answers to put her restless and worried mind at ease. She was too scared to push it though, in case she inadvertently said the thing that would push Quinn's eject button, because she knew they were hanging by a gossamer thread. They probably always would be, and she was loathe to be the one who broke it, but how could she ever feel like she was on solid ground with Quinn if she never even knew _what_ ground she stood on?

Quinn came back before she could find any answers within her own mind and resumed her position next to her.

"What did I miss?"

"Nothing, I paused it."

"Thanks," Quinn kissed her cheek before pressing her nose to neck again.

It was such a sweet gesture it was almost enough. Almost.

Rachel pressed play, "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

Quinn pulled her hand back to her stomach and Rachel took a few seconds just to revel in how nice it felt to let her hand languidly brush up and down Quinn's t-shirt covered abs.

"I still can't feel a baby bump."

Quinn chuckled, "Good, but that's not a question."

"Who was mean to you last night?"

"No one."

"Quinn?"

"Fine, some people were out of line. It's okay, I can handle it."

"Shouldn't we be handling it together though?"

"No!" Realizing how sharp she'd been Quinn raised her head to meet her eyes. "We can't handle this stuff together, Rachel. We're both on our own as far as school is concerned. That's just the way it has to be."

"But can't we at least talk about it in private?"

"I don't want to."

"I think it will help."

"And I don't," Quinn nestled her head back down, ending the conversation.

Another twenty minutes went by before Rachel spoke again, "Can I ask another question?"

"I'm trying to watch the movie."

"Please?"

"Okay."

"What are we?"

"Human. Well, I am. I'm pretty sure your species is still a mystery."

"Funny. I meant _us_. What are we?"

"What do you mean?"

"How would you define our relationship in five words or less?"

She felt Quinn tense up against her and there was few seconds of pause but when she finally spoke her words were light enough, "Not a relationship, slow down."

"If we go any slower, Quinn, we'll stop!"

"Are you kidding me?" Quinn sat up again with an incredulous laugh. "A little over a week ago I was still in denial I even felt anything for you!" She gestured between their cozy positions, "I'd say we've come a long way since then."

"I guess."

"I don't want to define us. In fact, I think the only way I can keep seeing you is by not defining us."

Rachel set her eyes back on the film, "That's not reassuring."

"I've said from the start I couldn't offer you anything serious, Rachel."

"I just thought things had changed since then."

"They have, a lot has changed, just not that."

Rachel nodded.

"It doesn't mean I don't like you."

"Can we just watch the movie, please? We're missing the best bits."

"Okay."

* * *

At just over the hour mark, Quinn had to excuse herself again. This was getting embarrassing. It was always horrible getting sick in someone else's house but this many times?

At least Rachel was used to it and only looked at her with concern each time she hopped up quickly from the couch. Quinn declined her offer of help each time, knowing it wouldn't really help anyway today and not wanting Rachel to see her vomit any more than she already had. It was hardly sexy after all, and while she wasn't really concerned with looking sexy today, she didn't want the lasting images of her throwing up to be too fresh in Rachel's mind for when she did feel like being sexy again.

God, when had she ever thought about being _sexy_ before Rachel? Once, twice . . . _never_ , maybe? She didn't know what was going on with her lately, except that Rachel had a lot to do with it.

Rachel had everything to do with it.

It was all Rachel's fault.

After flushing the toilet and rinsing, she made her way back to the family room. Rachel looked up long enough to give her a brief smile before focusing on the screen again, barely seeming to notice Quinn curling up beside her.

Except, obviously she noticed, she was just pretending not to.

Quinn was going to have to do the very thing she really didn't want to if she wanted Rachel to relax around her for more than five minutes today. Avoidance clearly wasn't working and being nice was only taking her so far.

"Last night was horrible," she murmured, hoping Rachel wouldn't take the bait but she could at least say she tried.

Rachel did. Of course she did, "The dance?"

"Mmm."

"Why?" When Quinn was slow to reply, she added, "You don't have to be specific, I understand this is hard for you, but some insight would really help curb my vulnerability right now."

How could she say no now? She placed Rachel's hand back on her stomach, smiling a little as the small hand instantly started petting her abs (she probably only had a couple more weeks before she lost them altogether), and took Rachel's other hand in her own.

"Well, to start with, and this shouldn't surprise you, the Gleeks are assholes!"

Rachel chuckled a little, "That's probably just because we've spun them in every direction the past couple of weeks."

"Don't defend them!"

"I'm sorry. What did they do?"

* * *

 _Quinn had been dancing with Finn, it had been awkward after their conversation but she'd insisted they had to and he'd reluctantly agreed to it._

 _It had been okay through the two fast songs, they could keep their distance while still maintaining a happy façade, but when the slow song had come on it had just turned totally uncomfortable. Quinn had tried to relax into his arms, knowing that this was where she should want to be, but Finn? He was never known for his dancing skills anyway – it was like dancing with a breathing mannequin tonight._

 _They moved stiffly together, not making eye-contact, and before the song was even over, he told her he needed the bathroom and left the floor at almost a run._

 _Quinn, feeling more than ever like every eye was on her and judging her, that every mouth was whispering about how her boyfriend didn't even want to dance with her anymore, had walked purposefully towards the punch bowl for another glass._

 _She realised only when it was too late that Mercedes, Kurt and Santana were standing around it. They all looked up as she came closer – Mercedes and Kurt looking like they'd been caught, Santana looking smug, proving they'd just been talking about her._

" _Hi, guys," she tried to greet them graciously, pretending she hadn't noticed._

" _Hey, Quinn!" Mercedes was all bubbly with new-found knowledge, and way too familiar for her liking. "Are you enjoying the dance?"_

" _Oh yeah. It's awesome," she deadpanned. "How about you, S?"_

" _I'm having a great night, except somehow I seem to be stuck spending it with these losers."_

 _Quinn smirked._

 _Rather than rise to the insult, Kurt took advantage of it, "Speaking of losers, where_ is _Rachel?"_

 _Quinn resisted the urge to dump the contents of the punch bowl on his head, "She's not here?"_

 _Kurt made a show of looking around, "We haven't seen her."_

" _And everyone else is here," Mercedes added. "Guess you must be pretty pissed she ignored your invite, huh?"_

" _I didn't invite her to anything, but she was at the game for my little speech, that's all that matters," she said with a smirk._

" _Yes, your speech," Kurt began. "It was . . . interesting."_

" _Very interesting," Mercedes put in. "Why did you try and kiss her again? That part wasn't totally clear."_

" _I was trying to manipulate her," Quinn was careful to keep her voice steady. "She had something I needed, I saw an opportunity, took it, and it backfired on me."_

" _But what could you so desperately need that you'd try to kiss_ Rachel _for it?" Kurt asked with a forced shudder._

 _Quinn took a big slug of her punch before answering, "That's none of your business, Kurt."_

" _Glitter-toes has a point though, Q."_

 _She was still glaring at Santana when Artie rolled up, "Hey, Quinn, where's Rachel? I haven't seen her yet."_

" _Why would you want to see her? You don't even like her."_

" _Whoa!" Artie rolled back a pace. "I was just asking. I thought you two were like, friends now, or something."_

" _What would make you think that?"_

" _Um, your speech."_

" _Did you even hear my speech?" she demanded._

" _Uh, yeah, that's why I thought…" Kurt was making a throat slashing gesture and Artie stopped speaking._

" _T-that was an awesome routine, Q-Quinn," Tina's approach from the other side almost made her jump._

 _Since when did these losers feel they could speak so freely to her? Glee had a lot to answer for. Rachel had a lot to answer for._

" _Thanks."_

" _I r-r-really enjoyed it."_

" _Thanks," she said again._

" _The choice of mash-up was a little odd, though," Kurt said._

 _Quinn rounded on him. "You didn't like it?"_

" _No, I did. It was just an odd choice."_

" _Yeah, I thought Rachel was the only Celine fan in our midst," Mercedes laughed._

 _Quinn shrugged and took a long sip of her drink, too long, it was probably obvious she was buying time. The mash-up had been purely for Rachel's benefit and it was the only thing she hadn't thought up an excuse for. It hadn't crossed her mind that she would need one. She was a practised liar, though, and every good liar knew that when in doubt, resort to honesty._

" _Yeah, I only even know that song because Manhands sang it on one of her stupid MySpace videos. I mean, MySpace? Doesn't she know that the only people who even still have MySpace accounts are the Cheerios so we can mock her?" She shook her head derisively. "Someone seriously needs to hit her over the head with a YouTube account."_

" _I'll happily hit her over the head with anything."_

 _Aware of the scrutiny the others were still giving her, Quinn smiled at Santana's comment._

" _I knew how I wanted the routine to go before I found the music, but then when I heard Stubbles singing Taking Chances, the lyrics just fit perfectly. But if any of you losers tell Berry the credits hers," she glared around at them, "I will personally make you seriously regret it."_

" _Oh please," Kurt smiled, "that would mean one of us would actually have to speak to her."_

 _Quinn frowned as she took another slurp from her plastic glass, "Why are you so down on her? Everything I said in my speech was true, you know? She never tried to kiss me, she certainly didn't try to force herself on me. I tried to kiss her! Which was a big mistake. I never thought she'd turn me down." She took another sip. "That was a knock to my confidence. I mean, she should want to kiss me, right? I'm not one of you losers, I'm actually hot and popular, so why didn't she want to kiss me?" She grinned as she remembered that it didn't matter now, because, hello, Rachel had definitely wanted to kiss her in her car earlier. "But I guess it all worked out okay."_

"' _Cause of your speech?" Mercedes asked. "Personally I think that's just going to make her hound you more than ever."_

 _Quinn shrugged, "I can handle Manhands."_

" _Manhandle Manhands, more like," Kurt muttered._

 _Everyone stepped away from the boy as Quinn glared at him, scared of being set on fire by her fury._

 _He held his hands up, "It was just a joke."_

" _Yeah, well you suck at comedy, other than the laugh riot over your sexuality."_

* * *

"Quinn, that was unnecessary!"

"By that point I was beyond caring what I said."

"Why?"

Quinn shrugged and lied, "They were pissing me off."

Actually it wasn't a total lie.

"I understand they were goading you about me and I can imagine how uncomfortable that must have been, but was that really all it took for you to be so awful to me earlier?"

"I wasn't awful to you!"

"You weren't very nice."

"I'm sorry. Look, I opened up, I shared; can we forget it now and finish watching the movie?"

"There's more," Rachel said confidently.

"Press play, Rachel."

Rachel did as she said. Quinn settled her head back on her shoulder, slowly moving in until her nose was pressed to her skin again. Knowing there was a way to be even more comfortable, she lifted the hand she was holding until she could nestle under Rachel's arm and pulled it around her shoulders while lacing their fingers together.

"Are you making a move on me, Quinn Fabray?" Rachel murmured, a soft chuckle in her voice.

"No, just getting comfortable."

"That's a shame."

"I promise, as soon as I stop feeling like I'm about to throw up, your lips are mine, Rachel Berry."

Rachel laughed even as she pulled a face, "I can wait." She pressed a kiss to the side of her head, making Quinn smile. "But not for long. So hurry up and feel better!"

Pressing her eyes into Rachel's neck to hide them, she wished the playful demand was all it would take.

* * *

Rachel cried at the end of the movie, just like she had the first time she'd watched it. Quinn teased her for it but her eyes were suspiciously damp too.

As the credits rolled Rachel took a moment to appreciate the position they'd slumped into, savoring it. Her left arm was around Quinn's shoulders still, holding her close, and her right hand had at some point snuck under Quinn's t-shirt to rest against her tummy. Every now and then muscles twitched under her palm, making Rachel smile. Quinn's free hand had taken up residence on her own stomach, fingers loosely bunching up the material of her sweater. And, of course, Quinn's head was still resting on her shoulder, actively sniffing her neck from time to time.

It was very nice to snuggle with someone in this way, she decided. Nice to have someone want to curl up like this with her, other than her Dads of course, which clearly wasn't the same thing. It gave her some comfort too to know that Quinn was enjoying their closeness as much as she was. She'd never imagined a month ago – a week ago! – that this would be possible for them.

"Did you want to watch another movie?" she asked quietly, not wanting to break the peace between them.

"I don't know? It depends on whether we can do that without moving."

Rachel had the DVD player remote beside her but it couldn't put a new disc in, "Not really."

"Then I'm good with static."

She smiled, "Okay."

Five minutes ticked by on the clock on the window sill and aside from some slight shifting of their bodies against each other, nothing happened and nothing was said.

Rachel's mind began to fidget, "Can I ask another question?"

"No."

"Please?"

"Rachel, don't ruin this, okay?"

She took the advice on board and nodded, lapsing back into silence.

That lasted all of two minutes.

"You don't even know what I was going to ask."

"That's because I don't care what you were going to ask. I just want to spend the day sitting here with you, just like this, nothing more."

"Nothing more at all?"

"Yes."

"All day?"

"Until either you kick me out or I have to go home, this is all I want to do."

"So you don't want to see what the other rooms in my house look like, or have something to eat, or go to my room, or play scrabble or . . . talk?"

"No. No. No. Scrabble? And definitely not."

"So you just want to sit here on this couch all day in silence?"

Quinn pulled herself up, leaning a little away, "Do you not like sitting like this with me or something?" she asked, not looking at her.

"Of course I do, Quinn."

"Then what's the problem?"

"There isn't a problem. I'm just not good at sitting still and not speaking. Especially when I have so many thoughts in my head. They need either an outlet or a distraction and this, as nice as it really and honestly is, isn't providing one."

"Okay."

"Okay we can talk?"

"No, okay I'll give you a distraction."

Dropping back against her side, Quinn's nose touched her neck and Rachel frowned.

"You're welcome to continue if you need to, but that's not really a distraction for me."

Lips brushed her skin next, feather-light as they moved up to the edge of jaw. It felt nice and her head tilted to the side. It still wasn't really a distraction though, because she knew it was avoidance on Quinn's part. The lips pressed deeper, catching a patch of skin below her chin and sucking gently. That was more of a distraction. A lot more. Rachel dropped the hand she was holding so that she could slide up and run her fingers into the back of Quinn's hair, holding her lips in place.

Quinn pulled back almost at once to rest her head on Rachel's shoulder, "Distracted?"

"Well I was starting to be."

Quinn chuckled. Rachel didn't see the joke.

"Why did you stop?"

"Because you didn't want me to."

How did that make sense?

"Quinn?"

"Yes?"

"You were just teasing me?"

"I was being affectionate. You wanted more, I didn't, so I stopped. If anything I was doing the opposite of teasing you."

"I'm not sure I believe you."

Quinn raised her head just enough for Rachel to see her small smirk before resting on her once more, "I guess it'll have to remain a mystery then."

Two could play this game. Rachel hadn't played it before but how hard could it be? She knew what Quinn liked.

"If you think kissing my neck for a minute is all it takes to distract me from talking, you need to brush up on your Rachel Berry knowledge," she whispered into the ear so close to her lips already. "I'd be happy to provide a presentation on the subject. I happen to be an expert."

She felt Quinn react, body squirming ever so slightly against her, but her words weren't encouraging, "On talking about yourself? That's not a surprise, Rachel."

Rachel rose above her indignation and whispered in her ear again. "I'd rather talk about you… or us."

Quinn shivered again but shook her head, "No."

"Why are you so against talking about it?" she asked in her normal speaking voice.

"I'm not. Okay I am, but it's not . . . I don't know. I still have no answers for you. I don't know what I want to say. I don't know how to talk about this. I just want to let it be. I just want to enjoy it and I know as soon as we start talking about it, it's going to get difficult and real and I don't want that."

"You don't want us to be real?"

"That's not what I meant," Quinn sat up, putting physical distance between them again. Rachel's hand fell out from under her t-shirt to land against the couch cushions and Quinn pulled her hand back too, to rest both of hers in her lap, "Don't twist my words."

"I don't want to twist your words, but you're giving me so few of them it's hard not to jump to conclusions."

Quinn was silent.

Rachel squeezed the shoulder under her hand, the only contact left between them. "Let me help you, Quinn. Because I think you _need_ to talk about this, and if there is one thing I'm good at – other than wowing people with my incredible talent – its talking. Let me help you talk."

"I don't _want_ to talk!"

"Well I need you to!"

"Please! Just . . . drop it."

"Let me ask a question. One question. You can answer it however you want, as long as you answer it."

Quinn shook her head tiredly. Rachel took a chance and leaned close enough to whisper softly in her ear again.

"One question, Quinn. I'll accept any reply you give as long as it's not silence and if you don't want to talk any more afterwards I'll sit here for the rest of the day with you and not make a sound."

"Like you can do that."

"I will, I promise. Just one question?" she murmured and kissed Quinn's earlobe.

It worked and Rachel smiled as Quinn melted, her body going limp and pliable against her as she sucked in a deep breath, but then Quinn jerked her head away, posture stiff and upright as she fought whatever she was feeling.

Rachel tensed, waiting for the fallout.

It never came.

"Okay," Quinn swallowed hard. "One question."

"Uh . . ." Great now she couldn't think of one! "Um."

"Rachel!"

She grasped for any of the questions that had been burning in her mind all morning. "Finn!"

"That's not a question," Quinn said irritably.

"You said earlier you had an awkward conversation with him last night. Could you elaborate?"

Quinn frowned, her eyes going far away as she focused on something within her memory.

* * *

 _Trying not to meet anyone's gaze, she kept her eyes on her plastic glass as she poured some punch into it. Tonight was proving to be super uncomfortable and she wished she'd just stayed with Rachel for cocoa after all._

 _She was so on edge she actually spilled some of her drink when Finn suddenly appeared right beside her._

" _You showed up then."_

" _Of course I did. I just had to go home to shower and change into my dress first," which was a lie; she'd done that in the locker room just fifteen minutes ago._

" _I thought maybe you were hiding from me."_

 _She tried to smile, "Why would I do that?"_

" _Rachel."_

 _She forced herself not to look away, "Why would I hide from you because of her?"_

" _I don't know, Quinn, maybe because you kissed her!"_

" _I didn't actually kiss her!" she wasn't lying now because she hadn't kissed her in the bathroom, that time. "It was all just a misunderstanding."_

" _But you tried to kiss her!"_

" _Look, if we have to have this conversation – which is needless by the way – can we do it somewhere less public?"_

" _You didn't seem to have a problem with it being public earlier!"_

 _Oh. Now she got it. Maybe she needed to apologise. But how did you apologise to your boyfriend for admitting in front of a crowd of his friends that you'd tried to kiss someone else?_

" _I'm sorry, I really am, but I just did what I thought I had to do, for us."_

" _What do you mean?"_

 _She took his hand and led him a little away from the table, "It was like when I took her out to get her to come back to Glee. It didn't mean anything, I was just acting."_

" _But what did you need her to do?"_

 _Quinn looked away, "She's just been helping me, with baby stuff. She did a class project on teen pregnancy and so she knows a lot of the things I need to know. That's all."_

" _That's it? That's why you tried to kiss her? I could have helped you find that stuff out. On the internet or something!"_

" _And yet you didn't," she shot back hotly. "Rachel did! Do you think I like her helping me? I hate it! I hate that she's the only person who actually cared enough to, but you know what? She was. So yeah, I was scared of losing that, so I made the stupid move of trying to kiss her!"_

 _Finn took several moments to think that over, "But why did you think kissing her would change her mind?"_

 _Quinn shrugged, "I thought she liked me. Like that."_

" _She_ doesn't _like you like that. She likes_ me _like that!"_

 _Quinn glared at him, "And you just love it, don't you? Don't lie!" she snapped, even though he hadn't had a chance to open his mouth yet. "I see the way you look at her sometimes, when you think that I don't notice. You care more about her feelings than mine most of the time, like right now."_

" _Hey, how is this becoming my fault? You're the one who kissed her!"_

"Tried _to kiss her! And it is your fault! Because you like her and how do you think that makes me feel?" Apparently there was no moral ground when it came to Rachel. It was every cheater for themselves, "I tried to kiss her because I thought it would solve a lot of problems all at once. I'm scared, Finn, totally terrified in fact about having a baby and besides you, Rachel is the only person who has actually tried to help me. I didn't want to lose that and… and I thought I was losing you to her as well, and if that happened I wouldn't have either of you. So, I figured the only thing I could afford to lose was my dignity, and I tried to kiss her."_

" _But why that?" Finn insisted. "Couldn't you have just pretended to be her friend like everyone else?"_

" _I told you. I thought she liked me. I thought that was why she was helping me. You probably haven't noticed because you're too besotted with the idea of her liking you, but she has kind of been pushing herself in my face recently. I didn't just accept her help straight away, you know, she didn't give me a lot of choice. I assumed she was just using it as an excuse, so she could jump me or something."_

* * *

"Quinn!"

"What? I wasn't lying. I did think that at first."

"Perhaps, but your missing out the part where you wouldn't have minded all that much!"

"Of course I am! I'm hardly going to tell Finn that, am I?"

"But you're just starting a fresh batch of rumours!"

"Look, do you want to hear the rest of the conversation or do you want to argue about it?"

Rachel took a while to think and Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Okay, tell me the rest. I supposed I should be armed with all of the information."

* * *

" _I thought if she had some kind of lesbian thing for me that kissing her would make her keep helping me and if not… at least if I figured out why you were so damn into her I'd know what to do to make you stay with me."_

 _Finn softened, "Quinn, I'm not going anywhere. I love you. You're having my baby."_

" _But that didn't stop you from kissing her!"_

 _His expression went from reassuring to panicked, "What, you know about that?"_

" _Yes I know about that!" For some reason it pissed her off more that he didn't even try and deny it. "Rachel took great pleasure in telling me one day!"_

" _Oh. Uh. It was before I knew you were pregnant," he rushed out._

" _But you still knew you were my boyfriend, correct?"_

" _Yeah, but… hey, you were my girlfriend when you tried to kiss her and you knew you were pregnant! That's worse!"_

" _But I didn't actually kiss her!" That time._

" _But what if she did like you? What if she let you kiss her? You'd have cheated more than me then."_

" _Okay, fine, so we're even."_

 _She'd never thought the knowledge of Finn kissing Rachel would ever be a good thing, but it was if she could use it to draw a line under the mess she'd made._

 _He looked dubious but nodded, "Yeah, okay, we're even."_

" _So we're okay?"_

 _She really needed them to be. She couldn't lose Finn because of this._

* * *

"So you two _are_ okay?"

Quinn looked at her for a long time trying to figure out if she sounded jealous. She didn't, just anxious on her behalf. It wasn't the first time either.

"Why do you do that?"

"What?"

"Care so much about my relationship with Finn."

"You told me I wasn't allowed to get jealous."

"Sure, but you could tell me not to get jealous about Mike a million times and I don't think it would stop me. Don't smile, I'm being serious."

"Okay, I want you to be happy and secure and you're carrying his baby so…"

Quinn looked away, "So?"

"So I know he makes you feel happy and secure and, again, you're carrying his baby so I know you must love him. Why wouldn't I want you to still have that?"

Quinn met her eyes again and they were clear and bright… too clear and bright, "You're lying."

"It's guilt!" Rachel blurted. "That's my motivating factor, I'm consumed by guilt, Quinn! Guilt! Finn is my friend. He's my only friend. And I've kissed his girlfriend! Lots! And I've touched his girlfriend's boob! And I want to do it again! I'm a terrible person."

"Then what does that make me? I'm worse."

She expected Rachel to reassure her but she just nodded morosely, "We're both terrible people."

She couldn't refute it so Quinn waited with hands clasped in her lap for Rachel to drop the axe on them once and for all, wondering if she'd be able to accept it gracefully this time or whether she'd try and talk her around again.

When the whisper came she could hardly hear it, "Show me it's worth it."

Breath held in her throat, she asked, "What do you mean?"

"It means we should cuddle some more because I don't think anything else is going to make me feel better right now."

"That won't make you feel _more_ guilty about Finn?"

"Not if we're just cuddling. That's not doing anything wrong."

Quinn was more than happy to adjust them to how they'd been before, "Not that I want to burst your bubble," she murmured once they were settled, "but the fact that your hand went automatically back under my t-shirt kind of implies there is something wrong about this."

She caught the hand before it could escape, pressing her own over it through the cotton barrier.

"Quinn!"

"Don't."

"But…?"

"I like it."

"That's not a good enough reason to…"

"On the contrary, it's a good enough reason for everything," her hand inched under the hem of Rachel's sweater, fingertips stroking the warm, soft – _God so soft_ – skin above her hip. "Don't you think so?"

Rachel's eyes slipped closed, head tilting back against the couch as she simply nodded her agreement.

* * *

They stayed like that for at least twenty minutes. Well, not exactly like that. At some point Quinn had folded into her again to rest her nose against Rachel's neck, breathing her in deeply.

Rachel didn't mind. She'd have minded a lot more if Quinn hadn't taken solace in her and had left to use the bathroom instead.

Quinn's hand was unmoving on the skin of her waist but Rachel's idly moved, using a finger to trace the definition of her muscles back and forth across her stomach. It kept Quinn twitching against her and then squirming until eventually she jerked back against the couch.

"Rachel!"

It startled her, "What did I do? Did I hurt you?"

"No, you're not _hurting_ me," she said with an embarrassed chuckle.

"Then what's wrong?"

Quinn didn't speak, leaving Rachel with the impression that there was nothing wrong and Quinn was just being strange, which was nothing new. Her skin was so smooth under her fingertips but Rachel could feel the firm muscle beneath as she dragged them slowly along and pushed them back the other way. Quinn sighed into her neck, wriggling closer against her side, content . . . until Rachel accidentally got the tip of her middle finger caught in her belly button.

Quinn jerked back again, shakily hissing out her name.

"Sorry! I wasn't trying to poke your baby's eye out or anything!"

"I know!"

"Then why are you getting angry?"

Quinn sat up a little, "I'm not angry. I'm . . ."

"What?"

"It just feels nice. So stop it."

"That makes no sense, Quinn. Why would you want me to stop if you're enjoying it?"

"Because we are not making out today, that's why."

It took her a moment to realise what her innocent appreciation of Quinn's abs had to do with them making out.

"Oh!" It came out high-pitched and then her voice dropped lower as she grinned, " _That_ kind of nice."

Quinn blushed, "Shut up."

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Quinn."

"I'm not ashamed. I just don't want to talk about it, or think about it, or _be_ it."

It sounded like she was ashamed.

"Because of Finn?"

There was a slight pause, "No."

"Because it's me?"

There was a slightly longer pause, "No."

"Because I'm a girl?"

Even longer pause, "No."

Rachel reached out to finger the small gold cross hanging between Quinn's collar bones, "Is it because your strict Christian upbringing is telling you sex is wrong?"

"No!" Quinn slapped her hand away from her necklace. "And we're not talking about… _sex_!"

"Then what are we talking about?"

"Nothing. I just feel… look can't I just sit here quietly and sniff you without it becoming something else for once?"

Could they? Rachel hesitated and then shrugged, "Of course."

"Then let me," Quinn wrapped her arms around Rachel's neck and snuggled her nose in tight to her skin. "This is all I want right now."

"Okay," Rachel draped her arms loosely around Quinn's back. "But in case you haven't noticed, you are sending extremely mixed messages today."

"I noticed," was the muffled reply. "Deal with it."

"And if I don't want to?"

"You want to."

Well, she couldn't really deny that but it didn't answer any questions, "Quinn?"

"Just shut up and cuddle me, Berry, before I change my mind about wanting you to."

Rachel stifled her giggle behind her lips and tightened the grip of her arms, hugging her closer.

Quinn pulled tighter too, her nose pressing deeply into her neck and every long inhale made Rachel clutch that little bit harder.

She was so lost in the feel of Quinn that she physically jumped when her Daddy's voice preceded him through the open door. "Hi honey, we're home!" She hadn't heard the car pull up or the front door open. Not that they were doing anything wrong, just cuddling, but… "Oh … uh… um?"

Quinn's panic at the interruption gave her enough momentum to take her right off the couch, landing on wobbly legs in front of her Daddy as she rushed out, "I'm sorry! This isn't what it looks like! I wasn't… I'm so sorry. It's all my fault, sir!"

Well, now they looked guilty and she could see the suspicion in her Daddy's eyes as he looked Quinn up and down, trying to place her, "All your fault? So who should I send the letter of complaint to?"

"Uh."

Rachel knew she wasn't helping by just staying sprawled there on the couch. She started to get up to make the awkward introductions.

Her Dad breezed into the room before she could, "What's all the commotion…? Oh, hey, Quinn." His eyes widened as he took in the implications of her being there, and then darted to her, "Is everything okay?"

Rachel opened her mouth, but was beaten to words by her Daddy.

"I guess that depends on how okay you think it is to come home and find our daughter making out on the couch!"

"That is _not_ what we were doing! I was just, uh, we were, um…"

Seeing how pale Quinn had gone with just two bright spots of color high on her cheeks, Rachel rushed to her side to calm her down, "It's okay, Quinn, we have a perfectly innocent explanation so try not to over –"

She made the mistake of trying to hold Quinn's hand and it was pushed sharply away, "Don't touch me, RuPaul! … I'm sorry," for a second, Quinn reached for the punished hand in apology only to remember the audience and snatch her hand to her stomach instead. "I can't cope with this, I have to… Oh God, change of plan, I actually _need_ to get out of here, now!" Squeezing her lips together and holding her stomach, Quinn ran between her dads and out of the room.

"Was that really necessary, Daddy?"

Hiram Berry turned from watching Quinn's hasty exit with an amused smile, "Forgive me, Baby-girl, but I didn't expect any friend _you_ made to be so easily spooked."

"First of all, I resent the implication that my friendship requires a strong constitution, second of all, _that_ is Quinn Fabray! How would you expect her to react to what is completely foreign territory for her?"

"No, really?" Her Daddy's smile actually grew instead of turning guilty and he shared a look with her Dad. At LeRoy's nod, he laughed a little, "And I'm still standing? Is she going soft?"

"Daddy!"

"He has a point, Sweetpea; in our day Head Cheerleaders had a little more oomph about them."

"I don't know, if she's going to be making out with our daughter on the couch, maybe the less oomph the better."

Her Daddy tried to ruffle her hair but Rachel batted his hand away, "We were not making out! Quinn was upset about something I was trying to comfort her, that is all. And now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to make sure she's not crying her eyes out over your insensitive performance."

She dashed for the stairs and took them at least as fast as Quinn had a minute before. Rounding the corner, she raced for her room and saw the other girl standing just inside the door.

"Quinn, are you okay? My Daddy was just joking…" As she crossed the threshold, Quinn threw an arm out to stop her and Rachel ran into it, gasping at the impact across her midsection. "What's wrong?"

Quinn's eyes were downcast, "I couldn't make it."

"Couldn't make what?" Rachel's eyes fell to a large wet stain on her bedroom carpet. She jumped back, hands held high and clenching in disgust! "Eww, Quinn!"


	3. Chapter 3

Happy Nearly New Year. Thanks to all the reviews for the last chapter and also big thanks my brand-spanking new beta: OddCoupler222 who is being an awesome help in tidying this fic up. The title for this chapter comes from a Boyzone song: _Love Me For A Reason_ because I can't get it out of my head.

 **Chapter Three: I Never Know If I Should Stay or Go.**

"I'm so sorry," Quinn hadn't been able to take her eyes from the mess she'd made upon running into the room, but Rachel's disgusted reaction brought her around. "I didn't want your parents to hear me and I thought I could get to your bathroom in time, but…"

"It's okay, Quinn."

But she could tell by the barely concealed revulsion pulling at Rachel's lips that it wasn't. Of course it wasn't! How could someone throwing up on your carpet ever be _okay_?

"Look, I'm really sorry. Just tell me where you keep your cleaning supplies and I'll get rid of it. You don't even have to stay. You can go back downstairs and I'll just leave quietly when I'm done."

Rachel physically shook out her shoulders, arms, and hands and she looked much better once she was done. She shook her head, too, "No, honestly, it's quite alright. You couldn't help it. You sit down and I'll clean up. It won't take long."

"No, Rachel, I'll…"

"You're still very pale, Quinn. If you won't sit down on the bed I think you should at least go and sit in the bathroom to prevent any more accidents on my carpet."

Already feeling embarrassed and sick and upset, Rachel's light-hearted dig coupled with the sympathetic tone of voice brought tears to Quinn's eyes. She tried to blink them away but they fell, starting as a trickle but quickly turning into a waterfall.

"Oh God!" She was _so_ pathetic. Falling back to sit on the edge of the bed, she covered her face with her hands and leaned forward, trying to hide her tears from the girl watching just two feet away.

Which obviously didn't work that well.

"Hey, hey, I was just trying to make light of the situation so you wouldn't feel like… well, doing this. It really is okay. Just last year I became rather partial to chili-beef tacos and ate so many of them one day that I barfed all the way across the living room and that looked way worse that this! It also may have contributed to my decision to become a vegetarian but that information stays between the two of us, if that's okay, because I prefer to focus on the ethical reasons for my life-style choices," Rachel sank down beside her on the bed, one arm curling tightly around her shoulders but Quinn couldn't take being comforted right now, least of all by Rachel and her ethical reasons.

"No, Rachel, it's not okay!" She pushed the girl away. "Stop being nice to me! I don't deserve it. I was rude to your parents, I lied about you _again_ and I just _threw up_ all over your floor,so just stop!"

"Quinn…" Rachel tried to take her hand.

"No!" She pulled it roughly away, "Rachel! I can't… this is just too exhausting. I don't know how much longer I can cope with everything going wrong in my life. I have worked so hard to be who I am…!" She was clenching her jaw to control her sobs but it was just making her sound even more broken, "You have no idea how hard and then because of one _stupid_ mistake, I end up here. How is that possible? How did everything go wrong so fast?"

"Quinn," Rachel repeated, forcing out a chuckle. "It's hardly anything. You've been drinking water all day so just a little scrub with some disinfectant and some carpet spray and it will be like it never happened. You're understandably over-reacting because you still feel unwell but I promise you it's okay."

Quinn cried harder because Rachel just didn't get it! She wasn't talking about the stain on the floor. As mortifying as it was, it was just the result of all of the substantial mistakes she had made last night.

"Just come here." Rachel put her arms around her again, pulling her into a hug. "Just sniff me for a few minutes and it'll put itself into perspective."

She allowed her nose to drop to Rachel's neck, wanting her to be right, but she barely had time to inhale before she knew she had to move. Pushing away again she staggered to her feet and ran for the bathroom.

She emerged just over two minutes later, still wiping tap water from her lips, to see Rachel heading out of the room.

"Where are you going?" her voice sounded so weak.

"To get some cleaning solutions and a bucket of water," so did Rachel's. After hesitating in the doorway for a moment, she took a step back in and softly closed the door again. "Why aren't I working?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Why aren't I making you feel better?"

"Oh. It's just a bad day."

"I've seen you have bad days, Quinn, but I've always worked in the past."

"This isn't about you, Rachel."

"Well, forgive me, but I feel like I'm having my worst fear realized right now so if it's really not about me then I'd appreciate some sort of explanation as to what it is about."

Quinn frowned, "Your worst fear is not relieving my morning sickness?"

Rachel didn't look embarrassed or cowed by her sarcasm, "One of them yes, considering it's the very foundation of our relationship."

"We're not in…"

"A relationship, yes I _know_. Consider it a generic term for two people who have yet to define what they actually are in, then, and please answer my question."

She didn't want to.

"I showered before you came over but I can shower again if that will help. Or perhaps…" she gestured to her closet. "… I won't be offended if you just want to use a t-shirt or you can wear my hoodie again, no one is going to see you in it here."

"I already said it isn't you. I just don't think anything is going to help today."

"Why do you think that?"

"Weren't you going to get the carpet shampoo or something? If you get it now I can start cleaning up."

"Why aren't I helping with your morning sickness today?"

Jeez, she was like a broken record! One she wanted to snap in half, "Because I got drunk last night! Okay? I stood up and made a big speech about trying to kiss you and then I got scared. I was weak. I walked into that dance and I was terrified. So, I escaped into the punch bowl and now I have a hangover or something. Are you happy now?"

Rachel had covered the distance between them in a heartbeat, "Quinn, the baby!"

"I know!"

"But, how could you do that?"

"I didn't mean to! I didn't even know I was doing it until it was too late."

"But how is that possible? You must have known!"

"I didn't, I swear," she fell onto the edge of the bed again, head back in her hands, "I didn't even realize until I was talking to the Glee kids."

* * *

" _So what did she say when she turned you down?" Artie asked._

 _He didn't sound like he was digging for gossip, just genuinely curious, but she was aware that Mercedes and Kurt_ and _Santana were hanging on every word she said._

" _I think I've humiliated myself over Manhands enough for one night, thanks."_

" _Oh, go on, Quinn," Kurt cooed, "You have to give us something."_

 _Why, exactly?_

" _I can't even remember, something about not falling for my tricks."_

" _Oh my God, girl, what would you have done if she'd actually been into it?"_

" _Sucked her face off?"_

 _She ignored Santana's comment to focus on Mercedes, "I'd have kissed her obviously, what else could I have done?"_

 _Mercedes let out a peel of laughter, "Oh my God, that would have been disgusting!"_

 _Quinn's eyes narrowed, "I didn't know you were such a homophobe, Mercedes."_

 _The other girl sobered immediately, looking hurt by the accusation, "I'm not; I'm down with the gay-love, but it's_ Rachel _! I mean, who wants to go there?"_

" _Why wouldn't you?" When Mercedes eyebrows shot up, Quinn realized her mistake – actually she realized the wrong mistake, but she'd figure that out in a minute – and looked around the group until she settled on Artie, "Why wouldn't_ you _want to kiss Rachel?"_

" _Um, because she's Rachel?"_

 _Quinn's gaze narrowed further, "So, it's not that you think she's unattractive or that you imagine she wouldn't be a good kisser; you're purely basing your judgement on her reputation?"_

 _Artie looked so uncomfortable, and it would have been funny if Quinn wasn't already so annoyed, "Uh, kind of."_

" _But mostly it's her personality," Kurt put in smoothly._

 _Quinn shifted her angry eyes back to him until Santana took her attention away, "So, you think she could be a good kisser, Q?"_

" _I don't know, why wouldn't she be? Her lips are soft and, uh, I mean, they look like they are, not that I'd actually know but they look it, right?" She glared at the safest person there for confirmation._

" _I g-guess they do," Tina agreed awkwardly._

" _Exactly. That's all I meant. And can we be done talking about RuPaul now?"_

* * *

"Oh, God, I called you RuPaul in front of your Dads, didn't I?"

"Yes, but I don't think they noticed."

"I'm sorry, Rachel."

Rachel actually smiled, "You call me names when you get uncomfortable in a situation, remember? And you were definitely uncomfortable downstairs. It's never pleasant but I can let it slide under certain circumstances, for now."

Quinn nodded, still feeling bad about it.

"Besides, I'm more interested in hearing about how you were defending my kissing skills last night."

"Oh, well that part kind of ended there. You might not like the rest so much."

"Tell me anyway."

* * *

 _Quinn refilled her punch glass and then turned away from the Gleeks, sick of getting the third degree. She mentally mocked the dancers closest to her – everyone sucked! And then she wondered where Finn had gotten to. He couldn't still be in the bathroom, it had been twenty minutes and there was never a line for the boys._

 _As she was taking a sip of her sweet, fruity drink, Santana sidled up next to her, "So you ready to come clean about shit yet?"_

 _Quinn spared her a brief sideways glance, "What?"_

" _Berry! I know you were lying earlier."_

* * *

"Earlier?"

"Oh yeah, Santana and Brittany caught me as soon as I walked into the gym and dragged me into the corner. Well, Santana did; I think Brittany had been trying to talk her out of it because she kept trying to get S to dance with her instead."

* * *

" _Where have you been?" Santana hissed, "I've been getting shit left and right from the squad about that stunt you pulled."_

" _I went home to change, and felt sick after all the jumping around so I took a nap. What's the big deal?"_

 _"Rihanna! We have to dance to this!"_

" _What's the big deal? Q! You admitted to trying to kiss Stubbles, for fuck's sake! What do you think the big deal is? And what the hell possessed you to do it in the first place, let alone admit it in front of half the school?"_

" _None of your business."_

" _Yeah, well tell that to the rest of the Cheerios. Not to mention Coach is gunning for you for hijacking her half-time show."_

 _That thought was a little scary, but after reading Santana's body language, she felt safe assuming it was a bluff._

" _I can handle Coach Sylvester. Once I explain that Berry was trying to blackmail me, she'll appreciate what I did."_

" _Was she trying to blackmail you?"_

" _Yes."_

" _Come on, San, this is our song!"_

 _They both looked at Brittany and then back at each other._

" _So, you don't have a thing for her?"_

" _Santana," she sighed, "it's Manhands! How could I have a thing for her? If I was suddenly going to go gay it would at least be for someone on our end of the food-chain. I'm not desperate!"_

* * *

"Quinn!"

"You have to stop shrieking my name like that or your Dads are going to start thinking I'm doing something to you that I shouldn't be."

"Yes, well they know me well enough to know that it's not something I'm enjoying!"

Quinn's brow furrowed, "I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing considering our history."

Rachel half-smiled, "Just tell me you start defending my honor again soon."

Shrugging her shoulders, Quinn made an _eh_ sound.

* * *

" _Okay, fine," Santana ran fingers through her hair, looking away for a moment, and when she looked back her eyes were full of sympathy. "But I'm your best friend, Q. If there was something going on, you'd tell me right?"_

" _Of course I would."_

" _And, I mean, Berry's not so bad, if you totally discount her terrible clothes and that annoying habit she has of speaking. I bet she's killer in the sack."_

 _Quinn looked away as she blushed, "I really don't need to be thinking about what Berry is like in bed." She wasn't lying; there was no way she could let herself think about that kind of thing without losing her mind and acting on it – (Incidentally, she kept that bit out of the re-telling). "But if you want to give her a go, I won't judge," she added with a smirk._

 _No, she'd just kill her in her sleep at the next Cheerios sleepover._

" _No thanks. But if you did like her, Quinn," Santana softened her voice even more. "_ We _wouldn't judge either. It's totally okay if you do. We're your best friends, you can tell us."_

 _She didn't even need Brittany's subtle headshake over Santana's shoulder to know what was what._

" _Nice try, San, but I taught you that trick, remember?" It had been used on her more than once at Belleview. "But even if I fell for it, I still wouldn't have anything to tell. There's nothing going on between me and Berry, other than what I said in my speech, and now it's done."_

* * *

"I'm surprised you didn't tell her I was dead to you now, as well."

Quinn shrugged sheepishly, "I actually may have said that too."

Rachel rolled her eyes, "Can we get back to the part where you thought it was okay to get drunk?"

Now she rolled her eyes, "I never thought it was okay! It just, look, listen."

* * *

" _I know you were lying earlier."_

" _About what?"_

" _About trying to get into Berry's pants… or under those tiny skirts of hers, to put it more accurately._

 _Quinn turned to face her so fast she lost some of her punch over the side of her glass. She slurped the liquid from her wrist while she tried to think what to say, "You're delusional!"_

" _And you're in denial!"_

" _I'm not!"_

" _Oh, Berry's lips look so soft!"_

" _Screw you!"_

" _Yeah, because that makes me think I'm wrong. Look, some advice? Times two, actually. Stay the fuck away from Berry! It's doing your rep no good and your stock's already set to plummet. You should be doing damage control right now, not flirting with the crash."_

 _Through gritted teeth she asked, "What's the second piece of advice?"_

" _Stay outta the punch. You've already outed yourself as a lesbi-tryer tonight, without alcohol. Now you've implied to the biggest gossips in Glee that you actually want to kiss Berry? I think one more glass and you're going to be singing an ode to Manhands on stage and we can't be friends anymore if you do that."_

" _What?" Quinn looked down at her glass in horror. "There's alcohol in this?"_

" _Big bowl of punch left unattended at Homecoming? Of course there is."_

" _Why didn't you tell me?"_

" _I'm not your keeper."_

" _I'm pregnant, Santana," Quinn's rising temper meant she had to struggle to keep her voice down. "How could you not tell me I've been consuming alcohol all night?"_

" _How is the fact that you're too stupid to know when something has alcohol in it my fault?"_

" _You wanted to know why I tried to kiss Rachel?_ This _is why. She hates me and yet she's still a better friend to me than you have been all year. Why wouldn't I do whatever it took to keep that when you're the alternative?"_

" _Screw you, Fabray. If that's the way you want it, I hope you and your tranny lover are very happy together."_

 _Quinn caught her arm before she could stalk off and Santana flinched back, expecting a slap, "Who spiked the punch?"_

" _Who do you think?" Santana yanked her arm away with a sneer and then she was gone._

 _Quinn shakily set her nearly empty glass down on the table and ignored the concerned looks of the Gleeks. None of them had bothered to her inform her it was spiked either, so screw them. Breathing heavily, she looked around for the source of all of her problems._

* * *

"So, who did spike the punch?"

"Who do you think?"

* * *

 _He wasn't hard to spot. He was jacketless, with his shirt untucked and sleeves rolled up and no tie. Any other boy here and she'd have thought the scruffy look was the result of getting warm and dishevelled from hours of dancing but Puck had probably arrived that way._

 _He was dancing with Kassie, another tick in the reasons-to-be-pissed-at-him column, but only until Quinn caught him by the open collar of his shirt and, without slowing down, dragged him from the dance floor and into the darkest corner of the gym._

 _She flinched as Kassie yelled after them, "Hey, get your dyke-y hands off of him! I don't want him catching your gay, Fabray!" but otherwise pretended she didn't care._

 _Puck didn't seem at all bothered by her cutting in, "What's up, Baby-Mama?"_

" _Ugh, don't call me that! And what's up is that I'm drunk, Puckerman!"_

" _Whoa, no way!" His eyes darted around over her head and he leered, "Okay, I'm up too, as in up for it, among other things. So, did you want to slip away, find an empty classroom or something?"_

" _Oh my God, you're a moron!" She slapped both hands at his chest, "I'm not propositioning you!"_

* * *

"Quinn, are you okay? You haven't said anything for a few minutes and you've gone a little pink."

She shook her head to clear that part of the conversation from her thoughts, "I'm fine, just still not feeling very good."

* * *

" _You got me drunk, asshole!"_

" _No I didn't. This is the first I've seen you all night."_

 _She looked down at his bulging pants…_

* * *

"Quinn! You could have warned me your story was about to get X-rated!"

She laughed at Rachel's flustered blushing, "It was a bottle, Rachel! In his pocket."

"Oh," waving a hand to fan her face Rachel giggled. "Well, it is Noah Puckerman you're talking about so my mistake is understandable."

Quinn sighed in agreement.

* * *

 _She pulled the quart bottle of gin from his pants. There was an inch left in the bottom._

" _I assume the rest of this is in the punch. The punch I've had five glasses of tonight!"_

 _He snatched it back and replaced it before anyone could catch him with it, "Yeah, so?"_

" _I'm not supposed to be drinking, Puck! My baby," she hissed, "is going to come out pickled!"_

" _Oh shit! Is it… are you… is everything okay?"_

" _How the hell do I know?" She slapped his chest again because the hard muscle beneath his shirt was somewhat satisfying to smack with the palm of her hand. "What were you thinking?"_

" _I was thinking: Who wants to drink virgin punch at Homecoming? Besides, it's what I do babe, you know that. And you weren't even here when I did it. I figured you were off doing something else. Or should I say some_ one _else. What, did boning Berry get boring that quickly? Weird, I always thought she'd be red-hot. Like with the amount she talks and all that vocal training shit she does, she must give the most awesome h-"_

* * *

"Quinn!"

She laughed again, "That was pretty much my reaction. Although it went more like…"

* * *

" _Puck! Don't be so gross! And I was not_ boning _Berry. Jeez, I wouldn't even know how to if I wanted to," hopeful pause in case he decided to offer some grossly graphic details on how she might do that (also left out of the retelling). "Which I don't."_

" _Fine, I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for why you both left the game at the same time."_

 _Shit, she'd known sneaking off to lay in wait for her was a stupid move._

" _Well, I don't know what her explanation is, but I didn't want to throw up on the side-lines. Side note, I don't think the baby is going to be an athlete when it grows up. It's really not a fan of sports."_

" _So, like, you weren't off somewhere macking on her?"_

 _She glared at him._

 _He looked disappointed, "So, like, you just kissed her the one time?"_

" _No!" she said honestly, "Look, Puck, I didn't kiss her that day in the bathroom, okay?"_

" _You just wanted to?"_

" _I pretended to!"_

" _How do you pretend to kiss someone?"_

 _She shrugged; Rachel never had explained that one to her, either._

* * *

"I thought you _were_ pretending."

"Yes, I got that."

"But you weren't?

Quinn leaned closer and kissed her cheek, making Rachel smile, "What do you think?"

"I think maybe you weren't pretending. And now you come to mention it, I don't really know how you'd pretend to kiss someone either."

"It's okay, I figured it out."

She grinned at Rachel's adorably confused face.

* * *

" _Yunno, at least it makes sense now."_

" _What does?"_

" _Why you never wanted another go on the Puckasarus (edited slightly for the retelling)," he shrugged, grinning at her discomfort. "I mean, no straight chick in their right mind is gonna say no, right?"_

" _I am straight! And in my right mind. The reason I'm not interested, Puckerman, is because you're a pig who says things like that."_

" _Not possible, babe. Straight chicks always find my piggishness part of my charm. But hey, no worries, right? You wanna be a lesbo, I'm cool with that. Least I am if you let me watch you and Berry do it one time."_

" _I am not a freaking lesbian!" she screamed at him._

" _Whoa!" He held his hands up and backed off a step. "Whatever, it's cool."_

" _No, it's not! It's not cool. How can it be cool? Everyone thinks I kissed Rachel!"_

" _That's kinda because you told them you did."_

 _She wasn't listening, the alcohol was talking for her now. "Everyone's going to be talking about it. As soon as I walked in everyone was looking at me. They were whispering, about me doing…_ that _. Why is it such a big deal? I'm Quinn Fabray, I should be able to kiss who I want to kiss, but no, everyone has to make this big fucking deal about it. This school sucks, Puck, this whole town sucks! Why can't people just mind their own damn business?"_

 _It was Puck's silence that made her realize she'd over-shared. She glared at him to let him know whatever he was thinking wasn't to come out of his mouth._

 _He ignored her, "So, let me get this straight? Are you saying you_ do _want to kiss Rachel?"_

 _For a second she almost just gave in. It was so hard keeping this to herself. It was too big to be contained within her mind, it was pushing out at the edges, pulsing behind her tightly pursed lips, needing release._

 _She couldn't though, because it was too big and she had a boyfriend and a baby on the way and… and because this was Puck._

" _No, I'm not saying that. I just…" She shook her head, trying to think beyond the gin fogging up her brain, "… I did what I did tonight to get myself out of a bad situation and somehow I managed to make it ten times worse."_

* * *

"You regret making the speech."

"Rachel, I was talking to Puck, I had to say whatever I could to…"

"Quinn, don't make excuses, just tell me the truth. Do you regret making that speech about me?"

There was a lengthy pause before she admitted, "Yes."

Rachel's head dropped until she was staring at her knees, "I see. That's why you were so cold earlier; you were regretting everything that happened last night. Why did you even bother coming over today? I mean, it's not really your style to let _me_ down gently."

"Yes, Rachel, I regret making that speech but… if I _had_ to go back and relive yesterday, with hindsight being twenty-twenty, I'd still make it."

"Really? But why?"

"Because the alternative would suck even more. And besides, there's stuff that happened after the speech that I don't regret. At all."

Rachel smiled, shyly, "What happened next?"

Quinn cleared her throat uncomfortably, "Uh, that was pretty much it."

She didn't want to regale her with the rest of her meltdown in front of Puck, not when it had mostly consisted of her telling him repeatedly and very drunkenly about how disgusting she found the idea of kissing a girl, especially Rachel, and him offering (repeatedly and drunkenly) to help cleanse her mental palate of the thoughts. Oh, but wait!

She grinned, "There is a little more. Let me tell you how you pretend to kiss someone."

"Um, if it's to do with Finn I think I'd rather not know."

"Oh no, Finn certainly didn't try and kiss me last night, pretend or otherwise," she said coldly, but seeing Rachel's instant concern she shook the dark feeling away and hurried on with her story, picking up about fifteen minutes later to avoid any unpleasantness.

* * *

" _You need to chill, Quinn! Being this angry can't be good for the baby."_

" _Shut up!"_

" _Look, do you want some more punch? I mean, you're already toasted so one more glass can't hurt and it might help you relax or something."_

" _Are you crazy? It's probably already going to come out an alcoholic now thanks to you…" She trailed off when the music cut out and Figgins started speaking over the microphone, but just for a second because she was on a roll here. "If it has to go for baby counselling then you're paying for it. Do you understand? I'm not asking for_ anything _from you, Puck, except that you don't let me consume any dangerous substances – inadvertently or otherwise. At least while I'm pregnant."_

" _Babe, I think you're wanted on stage."_

" _What?" She glanced over her shoulder, "Are you even listening to me? I'm trying to say…"_

" _Quinn! Homecoming, remember? You're supposed to be up there."_

" _Oh yeah," Quinn turned to face the stage, staggering a step sideways as she did so. "I'm not going up there."_

" _You kind of have to, you're one of the princesses and Figgins has called your name like three times."_

" _Shit," they were in dark corner, hidden away, but even from here she could see everyone impatiently looking around for her. She couldn't really be bothered with any of this right now, but she could see Kassie up there on the stage grinning, and Santana too, and there was no way she was letting either of them win this by default! "Okay," she took a deep breath, "I can do this."_

" _Good luck."_

" _Wait," she caught his arm before he could walk away. "There's no way I can face making another speech tonight when I win so will you do something for me?"_

" _Like what?"_

 _She whispered quickly in his ear._

 _He laughed but didn't jump immediately on board, "I don't know, babe. If I had a balaclava maybe but…"_

" _Please?" She stepped closer, eyelashes fluttering._

" _I don't know," he said again, eyes darting from her to the stage and back again. "What's in it for me?"_

" _Well, I could…" She stepped closer and placed a hand behind his neck, fingers stroking his hot skin. "…make it worth your while somehow."_

" _Yeah?" he breathed._

" _Sure," she pulled herself up on her tiptoes, pressing against his chest, "So will you do it?"_

" _I guess?"_

" _Promise?" she breathed against his lips._

" _Yeah, whatever, I promise."_

" _Thank you. Now I better go before they give my crown to someone else. Oh, and by the way, Puck?_ That's _how you pretend to kiss someone."_

 _He looked stunned. "What? You're such a bitch!" he smirked. "Wait, is that what you did to Berry?"_

 _She grinned, "Pretty much, although we were in a locked bathroom and we had no time limit so it lasted longer."_

" _Oh fuck, that is so hot," he groaned, before running off._

* * *

"I can't believe you were going to kiss Noah Puckerman!"

"I wasn't going to kiss Puck. I never intended to kiss Puck."

"But…"

"But nothing. It was a means to an end, that's all."

Rachel thought about that for a minute while Quinn quietly cursed ever putting the idea of her kissing Puck into her head.

"I never realized you were so concerned with Homecoming Queen."

"Honestly, between finding out I was pregnant and all of the drama with you, I didn't even have a chance to give it much thought until this week."

"So did you win?" At Quinn's frown, Rachel quietly added, "I'm sorry."

"Why? It's not your fault. Although _technically_ , it is a known fact that most people don't vote until they get to the dance so…"

"I was saying sorry for your loss, not out of any sense of guilt," Quinn just nodded, feeling morose all over again. "What was the end?"

"I'm sorry?"

"To what end did you pretend-kiss Noah?"

"Oh, that was actually awesome!" Quinn laughed as she remembered it. "It was the only minute of the dance that was enjoyable."

"What happened?"

"Well, _Kassie_ won the crown. I know, right? She's going to be even worse than she already was. And I think the only reason she lived long enough to have the tiara put on her stupid head was because Santana was as shocked as I was. Anyway…"

* * *

 _Kassie was grinning from ear to ear as Principal Figgins placed the plastic tiara delicately on her head and announced her as the winner for a second time, no doubt for those who couldn't believe it the first time. Santana was fuming, her smile still fixed in place but now looking deadly as she glared at Quinn like this was her fault._

 _Wishing there was a trap door in the stage that she could fall through, Quinn just hiccupped._

 _Kassie had the microphone in her hand now. "First of all, I'd like to thank my fellow princesses…" she turned to smile smugly at them. "After all, if they weren't all such big losers I might never…" Kassie's acceptance speech ended abruptly in a scream of horror._

 _It all happened so fast that Quinn nearly screamed, too, as a bulky figure in a white lab coat and large floppy-brimmed straw hat ran into the middle of them all and yanked the hem of Kassie's pretty dress right up above her tiara. The impulse only lasted a second and then she dissolved into giggles with everyone else._

* * *

"Quinn, no!" Rachel shouted through shocked laughter. "How could you?"

"Hey, how could I know she wasn't going to be wearing any underwear?"

"What? Oh my God!" Laughing hard, Rachel fell back on the bed. "That is so despicably awful."

Quinn was laughing too but she tried to play it cool with a shrug, "She's had it coming since she messed with you. Although I have to admit I wish I hadn't been watching. Her bare ass wasn't something I needed to see."

"So, you didn't like it?"

"Rachel!" Quinn slapped the other girl's thigh as she giggled. "No!"

A knock at the door sobered her up but Rachel was still a giggling mess on the bed as she called out, "Come in!"

"Hey, we heard a lot of shouting," one of Rachel's dads – not LeRoy – poked his head around the door. "Everything okay?"

"Yes, Daddy, everything's fine."

He watched the two of them, Rachel trying to stem her giggles as she writhed on the bed and Quinn sitting upright and tense but with a smile still tugging at her lips, before nodding and pulling the door closed.

"I don't think your Daddy likes…"

The door opened again and his head pushed back into the gap. Still seeing nothing untoward, he hesitated.

"Did you forget something, Daddy?"

"Um, yes. Late lunch in an hour. Quinn's welcome to stay." The door closed again.

They both waited a beat, half-expecting another encore, but when it didn't come they burst into giggles again.

"Do you want to stay for lunch?" Rachel asked as she calmed down.

"If you'd like me to."

Quinn flopped backwards beside Rachel. She was suddenly feeling so much better. Maybe time had dealt with her hangover or perhaps just releasing some of her pent-up feelings had been enough. Either way, other than some residual nausea, which she knew exactly how to take care of, she was feeling pretty good now.

She rolled to her side and picked up Rachel's closest hand in both of hers, playing with her fingers and circling a thumb around her palm, "Do you think your Daddy will check on us again before lunch?"

"Probably not, why?"

Quinn wriggled closer until she was pressed against Rachel's side. Angling her nose towards her neck, she asked, "May I?"

"Of course."

Quinn delved in and all was right with the world.

Rachel brought her other hand over to pet her hair, pushing it back from her face and then running her fingers through it, "I really like laying here like this with you."

"Me too."

A few minutes of blissful, silent sniffing passed, "Quinn, I have to move."

"Why? No you don't." Quinn rolled so she could hook a knee over Rachel's, keeping her pinned in place. "It can't be lunch time yet?"

"No, but I need to clean up before lunch."

Quinn nuzzled deeper, "You've already showered, how much cleaner do you need to be? You smell awesome." She kissed the skin beneath her nose. Yeah, she was feeling a lot better. "And you taste awesome."

The hand in her hair pulled slightly, not unpleasantly so. "Quinn."

She opened her mouth, mostly just to feel her lips move against Rachel's skin, "Do you know, the one thing I didn't tell everyone last night when they were taunting me about you, was how good it felt to do this."

"That's hardly surprising."

"I wanted to." She sucked lightly before releasing the skin and moving her lips up under Rachel's jaw. "So badly. To tell them they were all losers because they couldn't look past their own narrow minds to even imagine how good it is to kiss you. I feel sorry for them."

"Quinn, you need to stop talking dirty to me!"

She raised her head to meet Rachel's eyes with an amused frown, "First, I wasn't talking _dirty_ to you. Second, why?"

"Because I've been doing my best to compartmentalize my priorities while we've been having a serious discussion, but I really can't leave the carpet any longer. I'm worried it will stain and while the fresh air from the window is saving us at the moment, it's going to get cold soon and the vomit smell will start to permeate the…"

Quinn had already rolled back onto her back, "Who needs to run over a mailman when they have you around?"

"What?"

"Nothing, you're right. You go and get the supplies, and I'll clean it up."

Rachel left quickly and Quinn closed her eyes, going back over what she'd told Rachel and thinking about the stuff she'd left out. There were some things she just couldn't tell. Things she felt awful about, even more so now after spending a few minutes of, um, special time with Rachel.

It made her feel stupid, thinking that kissing away the gay would be any more effective than trying to pray away the gay, or mind-wash it away. She could blame it on poor judgement because of the alcohol; it wouldn't be the first time, but – just like the first time – it didn't make her feel any better about it. Maybe looking at it from a scientific point of view would? She'd tried an experiment and now had conclusive proof that two minutes of kissing Rachel's neck was definitely more of a turn on than thirty minutes spent slapping hands away from the bottom of her dress in the astronomy classroom.

No, that didn't make her feel any better either, it just made her feel gayer, and except for when Rachel was actually physically right there with her, it was still too scary to deal with.

She sat up, scrubbing her agitated hands up and down the thighs of her jeans to ease the sudden rush of 'I-don't-want-to-be-gay!' panic, just as Rachel came back into the room with a bucket in one hand and three different bottles in the other.

Alarmed, she stopped inside the door, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Why? What do you mean?"

"You look like you're about to start crying again."

"Oh," for a moment she had felt on the verge but the feeling was already gone. The fear always retreated in Rachel's presence, like it knew it didn't stand a chance in the face of such fierce opposition. "No, I'm fine, just…" she shrugged like that was an answer and stood up to take the bucket from Rachel, "Here, let me."

"No, you sit back down. I'll do it."

"But it's my mess."

"Exactly," Rachel stubbornly refused to give up the bucket and knelt on the floor. "And you've only just started to feel better and doing this might set back your recovery. Besides, I enjoy cleaning. It's a wonderfully productive chore that helps unleash creativity. It's very suited to multi-tasking in fact and can be done at the same time as my vocal training and perfecting my solo performances for Glee. So by robbing me of the opportunity to do this you may also be damaging my future self's chance to shine."

Quinn held her hands up in surrender, "Then please, scrub my vomit from the floor because I wouldn't want to be responsible for that."

Taking her seriously, Rachel nodded and placed a small yellow _cleaning-in-progress_ sign beside the contaminated area, "Thank you."

Grimacing at the patch of carpet that was now being sprayed with something that bubbled into a bright yellow foam on impact, she sat back down on the bed.

The room was silent while Rachel stared at her wristwatch, timing the foam maybe, until Quinn quietly broke it.

"I don't know anyone else who would do something like this for me."

"I haven't done anything yet."

"You know what I'm saying."

Rachel looked up earnestly, "I'm not sure that I do. Drat!" Her eyes darted back to her watch. "How many seconds do you think it took me to say that?"

Quinn chuckled, "I guess I'm just saying thank you."

"Oh, then you're welcome, but it really isn't a big deal. I like doing things for you."

"That's what I'm saying thank you for."

Rachel nodded distractedly and then nodded again as she deemed the waiting period over and picked a cloth out of the bucket. Wringing it out, she set to work and started to hum along with a melody in her head.

Quinn didn't recognize it at first but somewhere around the start of the chorus it made itself known as _It Takes Two._ Was it supposed to be some kind of message? Was she supposed to hum the boy parts? If Rachel had been singing she would have joined in automatically but she'd look stupid if she just started _humming_ with her.

Choosing to ignore any potential hidden message – because she wasn't Inspector Clouseau and if Rachel wanted to tell her something she could use her words; she knew enough of them – Quinn decided not to continue the important conversation she'd been trying to have. It wasn't like it came easy to her at the best of times, and if Rachel was going to be difficult…

She looked around the room for a distraction but other than thinking up a few snarky comments about her posters and the elliptical machine in the corner, she couldn't find one.

Until there it was, right there on the bed with her. It was on the far side and had an empty notepad on top of it which was why she hadn't noticed it before, but now it was instantly familiar and Quinn pulled the open book towards her.

"Oh, shoot, no wait!" Rachel leapt towards her from a starter's crouch, yellow foam flying. "Don't!"

Quinn flung up an arm to keep her at bay and leaned over last year's Thunderclap to see what had Rachel so panicked.

It was immediately obvious.

She took a moment to soak up the meaning and then, hiding her grin in the page, said, "Santana _is_ really pretty. I get why you'd want to look at her picture."

A deep breath was taken, followed by, "I'm not going to rise to that because I think if you really believed it you'd be much more jealous."

Quinn nodded, "Maybe. What's this?" She pulled a loose sheet of paper from between the next pages.

Rachel ducked under her arm and snatched it away. Quinn rolled onto her back as she saw her hide it behind her back and quirked an eyebrow.

"Well?"

"Nothing. It's nothing."

"If it's nothing, let me see it."

"No."

Quinn grinned, "Don't make me take it from you, Berry!"

"It's personal."

"I saw my name at the top," it had been the only thing she'd had time to see before it was snatched away. "Doesn't that sort of make it my business too?"

"If I wrote your name in my journal would that make my journal your business?"

"Sooo that's a loose leaf diary entry."

"No."

"Then your argument isn't valid." What was it that Rachel was so determined to keep a secret? Quinn wasn't going to take it from her – if privacy was that important to the other girl then she'd respect it – but it just made her want to know what it was even more, "Tell me."

"Never!"

"Are you ticklish, Rachel?"

"No!" Rachel said, backing up fast to put her desk chair between them.

Quinn smirked but didn't move from the bed to call her bluff, "I don't need to see it, but if I was to guess correctly, you wouldn't outright lie to me, would you?"

"I suppose not," Rachel agreed, albeit reluctantly.

"Okay. First guess: you were writing me a Dear John letter full of big words, telling me how pissed off you were at me for not turning up. And then you signed it with your full name and a gold star at the end?"

Calming down slightly, Rachel smirked, "Not even close, but I like your attention to detail."

"Good. Second guess: you were writing a song to use to serenade me in Glee, telling me how much I suck and how better off you are without me."

"No, Quinn, and I can't help noticing that your guesses have developed a theme."

She shrugged her shoulders, "Well, you won't let me see it so I'm assuming it's something bad."

"It's not," Rachel assured her. "Or at least, it's only half bad." Quinn quirked an eyebrow but Rachel didn't elaborate further, "So you would consider me finishing with you to be bad then?"

Quinn rolled her eyes and looked away, "Don't ask stupid questions."

"I don't think it's a stupid question. You won't give me a straight answer to the status of our relationship…"

"It's not a relationship!"

"Exactly! So how am I supposed to know if you would considering being rid of me once and for all a bad thing or not?"

"Do you honestly believe I would have put myself through what I did last night if I didn't care about you?"

"Caring about someone and _wanting_ to be with them are two different things."

Quinn glared at her, "I like you. I enjoy spending time with you. I want to get to know you better and hang out and have fun." She took a breath, "But I don't want any more than that. This has already gone further than I ever intended it to; I never actually planned to let it get anywhere – it all just happened so fast, but I'm okay with it, more than okay with it, with us, and where we are now, but I don't want anything more serious. Like I keep saying, I have way too much _serious_ in my life already."

Rachel didn't seem upset or angry, only thoughtful as she listened and then nodded her head once Quinn had finished.

"So, if I could just summarize: you want to be with me, providing we remain casual, no formal commitment, just _hanging out_?"

The emphasis on the euphemism wasn't snarky or anything, leaving Quinn with no idea how she felt about her offer.

"Yes."

"Okay, could you just give me a minute?" Rachel turned to her desk and scribbled something on the piece of paper she'd been hiding behind her back.

Quinn smiled, "Third guess: that's your pro and con list, isn't it?"

Rachel looked over her shoulder, blushing, "Um, yes. How did you know?"

Quinn rolled her eyes again, "Then don't you think I have a right to see it?"

"I'll show you mine when you show me yours."

"In your dreams, Berry!" she teased, laughing as Rachel blushed even darker.

She gave as good as she got though, "A few of them, yes."

Her cheeks grew warm but she feigned nonchalance by picking up the yearbook and mentally self-critiquing her photo. She was so fresh-faced and wholesome, it was almost nauseating. Her nose looked awesome, of course, but the amount of hairspray she'd used that day to keep her ponytail tight and perfect made her hair look dry and malnourished under the bright light the photographer had used. Her patented 'cheer-smile' made her mouth look too big and… wait.

There was something in this yearbook that wasn't there in her own copy… the ghost of a kiss.

She glanced up at Rachel to see her back was still turned as she added something to her ridiculous pro/con list and then ran a fingertip lightly over the page. It wasn't greasy, so it hadn't been made this morning while Rachel was waiting for her. She smirked, wondering how long and how often and whether it was fair game for teasing or if she should refrain from embarrassing the girl. After all, when she'd been Lucy, unable to get a real boy to even look at her, let alone get close enough for their lips to touch, she'd spent three months kissing her poster of Chad Michael Murray goodnight, and she would be horrified if anyone were to ever find _that_ out.

But, nah… this was Rachel Berry and teasing her was what Quinn did best.

"Uh, Rachel?"

"Yes, Quinn?" Rachel turned to perch on her desk, full of innocent inquiry that Quinn was about to really enjoy crushing.

"Did you at least ask permission before you got your mack on?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Is that why you're such a good kisser even though you've made out with a grand total of me? You've been practicing behind my back? Well, not really behind my back I suppose," she added with a sly grin.

"I really don't know what you're talking about."

She held the book up, pages facing out and tapped her picture, "I know a lip-gloss stain when I see one, Berry."

Rachel's face went so red her ears were practically purple, "Oh – that – no – I can explain! It isn't what you think! That's… it was like it when I got the book, I-I swear! " she stammered out.

Quinn fell back on the bed giggling, dropping the book to cover her face as tears of laughter sprang to her eyes, "Y-you s-swear?" she was having trouble speaking. "What do you swear on? That poster of Barbra Streisand on the wall, maybe?" she teased.

"No! That poster has been officially autographed!" Realizing she'd just ratted herself out, Rachel slapped a hand to her face and backtracked, "Okay, I don't swear. I admit it; I kissed your photo _once_!"

"Once? Do you swear?"

"Okay, maybe five times," she said quietly.

"Five times?" Quinn was overtaken by giggles again.

"Stop it! I mean it, Quinn, stop laughing at me." Rachel had walked over at some point, close enough to slap her knee. "It's not like I was sucking your face off or anything, they were just friendly kisses."

"That doesn't make it any less embarrassing, Rachel!" Oh, God, she was going to have her baby right on Rachel's bed if she didn't stop laughing, or pee herself, or something. "Tell me, who's better? Me or photo-me?"

"Photo-you," Rachel said grumpily. "By miles!"

Giggles still escaping, Quinn forced herself to sit up again and grabbed Rachel's hand to pull her closer. "But photo-me doesn't let you get to second base, does she?"

Rachel made a token effort to resist her but she ended up standing between Quinn's knees anyway, "How do you know?"

"Photo-me doesn't have boobs."

"Oh. Right."

With a hand behind Rachel's neck, Quinn drew her down, "Show me what photo-me does that I don't, so I can beat that bitch at kissing you."

Rachel put on the brakes a few inches away, "I have a spare toothbrush if you need to use it."

Quinn held her there for a beat as the moment died around them and then released Rachel's neck to pick the book back up. She flicked back a few pages until she found the Black Students Union club photo. It wasn't hard to pick Rachel out of the small crowd.

"You wouldn't ruin a spontaneous romantic moment by asking me to brush my teeth, would you?" she asked the photo.

"Her taste buds are made of paper."

"Whatever," Quinn stood up from the bed, book still in hand, and made her way to the bathroom.

"The spare toothbrush is in the left hand drawer, let me get it for you."

"No," she held a hand up to stop Rachel from following her into the bathroom, "I can find it."

"Are you mad?" Rachel asked, nervously wringing her hands in front of her.

"Not at all. Photo-Rachel and I would just like some time alone," with a wink she closed the door in Rachel's surprised face.

* * *

Rachel stared at the bathroom door, eyes bugged out as that wink sent pleasant reactions racing through her body. And then, when she'd gotten herself back together, she grinned.

So far, today had been like every other time she'd spent one on one with Quinn; a constant rollercoaster of up, down, around and around. A ride that was at once both agonizingly painful and beautifully pleasurable. And they'd only been together a few hours, just what might the rest of the day have in store?

She went back to cleaning the carpet, scrubbing out the rest of the foam before applying some bleach-less disinfectant to the area and rubbing that in too, before washing the entire patch in clean water to get the chemicals out. She was just spraying a small amount of liquid carpet freshener over the damp spot when Quinn re-emerged from the bathroom.

"You were in there a long time."

Quinn cocked an eyebrow, "Is it considered polite on your planet to inquire about someone's toilet habits?"

Rachel blushed, "No, I was just… I was worried you were sick again."

Quinn grinned, "Relax, Berry. I was just ensuring I was minty fresh and finding out if photo-Rachel is a better kisser than you."

"Is she?" Rachel asked, for a silly second scared that she was.

"No, but she goes further than you do," Quinn handed her the book as she passed by to the bed.

Rachel thought her face was going to melt off as she looked down and saw the three pale pink lipstick marks – one on her face, one across her chest and one… significantly lower down!

"Quinn!"

Quinn laughed, "Don't look so scandalized. It's only paper."

"But still!" Rachel was still staring at the page; she couldn't seem to look away.

"Have you finished down there?"

She shook her head, still staring.

"I know you're a bit of a narcissist, and worryingly I usually find it a little endearing, but I'm starting to get jealous of the way you're looking at your own picture."

"Sorry."

She tried to shake the arousal she was feeling away and set the book aside, but after pouring the dirty water down the toilet and thoroughly washing her hands, when she came back to the bed her eyes went straight back to the kissed photo.

"If you like it that much I can do it for real, you know?"

Rachel's eyes shot to her, "What?"

"Oh, shi–!" Quinn's eyes bugged as she realized what she'd implied. "I, uh, just meant this one," she rushed out, poking the lipstick print over Rachel's mouth.

"Oh. No, that's okay."

Quinn looked hurt, "You don't want to? I just brushed my teeth like three times."

"It's not that. And I do," Rachel crawled onto the bed but stayed a respectable distance away. "It's just… while I would have been happy to simply _hang out_ with you when you first arrived, several things have come up since then that I think we need to address first."

"No. I think we've addressed enough for one day."

"Quinn…"

"Rachel, I'm serious. I told you about last night. I've opened up about other stuff even though I had no intention of doing so. I've given everything I possibly can today. So, unless you want to talk about the weather, or _Marley and Me,_ or the history assignment or, I don't know, even Sectionals is an okay topic, then forget it."

"I want to talk about what happens at school on Monday."

"What do you mean? Nothing's going to happen. Nothing that doesn't usually happen anyway."

"I mean, what will it be like, between us?"

Quinn looked both guilty and impatient but she answered, "The same as it always is. Why would it be any different?"

"Everyone is going to be under the impression that you tried to kiss me. Do you honestly think if we just act normally no one will say anything?"

"We _have_ to act normal," Rachel didn't miss the meaning behind the shortening of that word. "We have no choice; I have no choice. During school hours we have to be the way we've always been."

"So you'll be horrible to me and I'll pretend I don't care?"

"Yes."

"Doesn't that seem a little…?" She didn't get to finish.

"Rachel, don't pull this on me, okay! I'll tone down the mean girl attitude around you, and it's not like I'm going to slushie you in the hallways, but I can't talk to you in them either," Quinn looked away.

"I know we'll have to be discreet but…"

"No! This isn't up for discussion. As soon as we step foot in McKinley, I'm the bitch that hates you for trying to steal my boyfriend. It can't be any other way. I mean, maybe, occasionally, we can meet up in our spot at lunch or if we have study hall at the same time, but only _very_ occasionally _and_ if there's no chance of any of the Gleeks noticing we're both missing at the same time."

Rachel looked down at her knees and sighed heavily. So far, this was going exactly how she'd expected, but desperately hoped that it wouldn't.

"I'm not trying to hurt you," Quinn said softly.

"I know," and that was the thing, she did know that, but it hurt anyway and Quinn didn't care _enough_ to not do it. "But why can't we find some middle ground? Maybe not right away, but we can let the dust settle and then at least be friends in school."

"No. I can't be your friend."

Okay, that hurt a lot more.

"Rachel, think about it? If I start sitting with you at lunch, then Finn is going to be sitting with us and how long do you think it's going to take people to notice that I'm paying you more attention than I'm paying to my boyfriend?"

"Then don't pay me any attention, just sit with me!"

"It's impossible for me to do those two things at the same time! Hell, even Finn will notice, it'll be that obvious."

She smiled, just a little, at that.

"And all of the Glee kids are already suspicious and not all of them are scared of me. We have to give them absolutely no reason to think that anything I said in my speech wasn't true."

"But Quinn…"

"No!" she shouted it this time, "I did what I did for _you_ last night. I stood up there and put myself on the line so we'd have a chance because _you_ said it was the only way. And I will handle the crap that comes with it. But now this is _my_ only way and I guess you have to decide if you can do the same."

Rachel stared into her eyes for the longest time, really not knowing her answer. Her initial response was _yes, of course she could!_ Because surely she would do anything to keep Quinn… but there was still all this doubt and rather than alleviating it, Quinn just kept adding to it.

"I need to put it on my pro/con list so that I can look at it objectively," she muttered, starting to get off of the bed.

Quinn caught her arm, preventing her, "Fine, but because I know it's going down as a con, you have to let me give you a pro, too."

As Quinn pulled down on her arm, she pushed up on her knees, bringing their lips together before Rachel had a chance to object. It was nothing like the kiss in foyer earlier; it was sweet and gentle and subtly insatiable, until her hands were wrapped in blonde hair, keeping Quinn close.

"Lunch in ten minutes, girls!"

The separated, grinning at each other. Quinn reached up between them to rub a little of her own lipstick from Rachel's bottom lip with her thumb, before brushing it tenderly over her cheek.

"That does count as a pro, right?"

"Definitely."

"Then you had better go add it to your list."

Smiling, Rachel jumped from the bed to do just that. It only took a second to add 'spectacular kisses' to the pro list, but the addition to the con side of things took a little longer.

Quinn's phone started ringing before she was halfway through and – noting the ringtone – she skipped down a few lines and wrote ' _still_ has a boyfriend' before going back up to complete her previous paragraph.

Behind her, Quinn pulled her cell phone from her pocket and answered the call, "Hi!"

Considering Rachel only had Quinn's side of the conversation to go on that hadn't been the most auspicious start, it was far too bubbly.

"I don't know, I'm kind of doing something right now."

Rachel didn't even try not to eavesdrop, it would have been pointless anyway.

"Oh, nothing much. I'm just about to have lunch, though."

So she was _nothing much_. That was nice.

"No, at home. Where else would I be having lunch?"

…

"You want to take me to lunch? Finn, you've _never_ taken me to lunch."

Say no, say no, say no!

"I know we have to talk, I'm just surprised… You walked out on _me_ , Finn, remember?"

Rachel's eyes widened. When had that happened?

"Okay, I know. No, I'll meet you. No, don't pick me up, I'll meet you there."

What?

"Is an hour okay? You can't wait one hour for lunch? Oh, Saturday practice, I forgot."

Rachel's shoulders slumped as she set her pen aside, paragraph still unfinished.

"No, I can be there in fifteen minutes. Okay, bye."

She turned slowly, leaning back against her desk as Quinn put her phone away. She waited for the blonde to say something, to start making her excuses, but she seemed intent on not noticing Rachel was waiting.

She was going to have to speak first, "I thought we were going to be spending the whole day together."

"So did I; now we're not. Do you think your Dads will be upset that I'm not staying for lunch? They won't have made extra just for me, will they? I don't want to look like I'm bailing on their invitation."

"You are bailing, Quinn, but frankly I'm less concerned with how upset my parents might be than with how upset _I am_."

"I have to meet him. I need to do some damage control, the sooner the better."

"Great!" She flung her hands in the air. "Now not only am I going to be alone all afternoon, I'm going to be plagued by images of 'Under the shirt? Over the bra!' Unless you're really trying to sell it and then, naturally, I expect the bra will come off completely."

Quinn's eyes narrowed as she stepped towards her, pulling the desk chair out of the way so that she could get closer, "I'm going to let what you just implied about me go because you're working yourself up into some kind of frenzied state that I thought only muppets were capable of achieving, but don't _ever_ imply it again. What I do with my boyfriend is private and if I feel the need to go a little further than I usually do just to reassure him that he's not actually a clueless loser who is dating a _giant_ lesbian, then that's what I'll do – without any social commentary on it from you. Are we clear?"

Rachel stared defiantly back at her until it became obvious that Quinn wasn't going to move or say anything until she got a response.

She crossed her arms, looked to the side and nodded, "Fine, they're your boobs, you can do what you want with them."

Quinn chuckled, "Thank you, but I'm meeting him for the lunch time special at Breadstix and I don't think my breasts are likely to even come up in conversation."

"What is going to come up in conversation? Me?"

"Honestly? I don't really know. We didn't part on the best of terms last night. If you really want to know, I've spent most of the day waiting for a 'break-up' text from him."

"Oh, Quinn."

The blonde stepped away before Rachel could hug her, "So I really don't know how this is going to go, but I have to try and salvage things. I can't walk into school on Monday without a boyfriend. I'll drop out first or transfer again or something."

Rachel placed a soothing hand on her arm, "It won't be that bad."

"Yes, it will!"

She flinched back at the intensity. Obviously she wasn't going to be able to say anything right at this point; hardly surprising when she was both jealous and disapproving of Quinn's attitude. The best thing she could do was let her go before it turned into another argument between them or worse, Quinn really did decide to transfer schools. Glee Club would be down to ten members – Mike still hadn't come back – meaning they would have to drop out of Sectionals!

"Go and talk to him. See where you stand. Maybe it's a make-up lunch instead of a break-up lunch. As gallant as Finn can be, I can't imagine him spending money to end things with someone. And there's the baby; I don't think he'd leave his baby just because you _pretended_ to kiss someone. If you need me to vouch for anything call me – preferably with a text with the script you'd like me to follow prior to the call would be appreciated, but I am excellent at improv so if that's not possible I'll manage."

"Thanks, Rachel, but if I do call on you he's going to know we've spoken since yesterday and nobody can know that."

"Right, of course," she flashed her oft-practiced show-smile. Fake-cheerful was about as close as she could get to the real thing. "Okay, off you go then. Would you like me to make your excuses to my Dads?"

"No, I'll do it; I don't want them to think I'm any ruder than they already do," she let her hand be taken in Quinn's as the blonde walked to the bedroom door. "Come on."

In the kitchen her Dads were already seated at the table, helping themselves to the store-cooked roasted chicken and the store-prepared salad. There were two spare plates waiting for them, but nothing had been formally laid out, making Quinn's abrupt departure less of an offence to good manners.

"Tuck in, girls," her Dad waved his knife about to indicate all of the dishes. "Rach, we got you some of that Moroccan couscous you like and Quinn, I have no idea if you're veggie like Rachel or normal like the rest of us, but there's plenty of each to go around."

"Oh, Quinn's definitely _normal_ , Dad, almost religiously so," she bit her lip after the jibe escaped and wished she had better control over her brain-to-mouth functions when Quinn glanced at her, hurt.

"Actually, Mr. Berry, I really appreciate the invitation but I'm afraid I can't stay for lunch now after all. My boyfriend just called and reminded me that I already had a lunch date with him. I was having such a nice time with Rachel this morning that it completely slipped my mind," she gave a small self-depreciating laugh and it should have sounded fake but it didn't. "It all looks lovely, though, and I'm sure it tastes far more wonderful than what I am about to suffer through at Breadstix, but I'd feel bad if I stood him up."

"That's fine, Quinn, maybe another time."

Her Daddy nodded his agreement.

"I hope so," Quinn smiled. "Anyway, I'd better be going. Nice to see you both. Rachel, walk me to my car?"

Despite the polite tone, it hadn't really been a question and Rachel followed her dutifully back into the foyer and out on to the driveway.

Quinn opened the door but didn't get in, "I'd appreciate it if when you're angry with me, you save up all your snide comments until we're alone."

"And I'd appreciate it if you didn't give me reasons to be angry."

"I'm not trying to make you angry; I don't even know why you are. We've just spent three hours together and I'm probably not even going to spend a full sixty minutes with Finn. And it's not like _you_ asked me to stay for lunch, your Daddy did. So if anything, it's him I'm letting down and he didn't seem to really care."

"My Daddy wasn't on a date with you, I was."

"Not a date, we were just hanging out."

"Sorry, I forgot, Finn gets the dates," Rachel turned to lean against the side of the car, crossing her arms. She knew she was pushing into dangerous territory, doing exactly as she wasn't supposed to do, but the closer it came to Quinn driving off and leaving her, the more peevish she was feeling about it. "I get morning sickness and mood swings."

"You have an issue with _my_ mood swings?" Quinn asked pointedly. "At least I can blame my baby hormones. What's your excuse?"

She cast her eyes to the driveway, "I just don't want you to go. I know you _have_ to," she said before Quinn could say it for her. "I just wish you didn't. You're going on a date with Finn now and the next time _I'm_ going to see you is Monday when I'm not even going to be allowed to speak to you. I'm just feeling a little insecure about it and I wish we had more time together, that's all. You can go now, I won't try and delay you any longer."

Quinn scraped the sole of her sneaker back and forth across the black asphalt, "I could come back."

"You could?"

A shrug.

"When?"

Another shrug, "In a couple of hours?"

Rachel started to smile, but then frowned at her watch, "We wouldn't have much time. I have my vocal lesson between half-past five and half-past seven."

"Oh. Well, what about after?"

Quinn still wasn't looking at her, "Do you really want to? Or are you just offering because I'm making a fuss?"

That caused eye-contact, "Does it really matter? You're still getting what you want, aren't you?"

"Yes it matters! I don't want you to come back if we're just going to sit in my room and be sullen with each other."

Quinn sighed, "So we won't sit in your room. We'll go out and be sullen with each other. I'll pick you up after your class if you like?"

"Really?" That made her eyes light up, "A date? A real one? But where would we go?"

"I don't know, I'll think of somewhere."

"What should I wear?"

Quinn rolled her eyes good-naturedly and slid down into the car. Pulling the door closed, she buzzed down the window, "Whatever you want."

"So I'll see you at half-past seven at the Lima Community Arts Centre?"

Quinn nodded, but… "I'll have to wait for you around the back, not out front. Mrs. Pierce gives dance lesson there some nights and I don't want to run the risk of one of those being a Saturday."

"That's fine," and it was, she didn't mind having to hide from Brittany's Mom if the payoff was Quinn taking her on an actual date. "It'll only take me a minute to walk around."

"Okay," Quinn smiled a happy, genuine smile that Rachel immediately returned, "I'll see you tonight."

Rachel nodded enthusiastically.

"Look, I really have to go, I'm already late, but…" Quinn looked in her mirrors and then twisted in the seat to look all around at the driveway, the front lawn, the neighbor's yard and the street – all were empty. "… Can your Dads see us out here?"

Rachel looked up at the house, "Not from the kitchen, why?"

"Because it means you can kiss me goodbye. If you wanted to," she added, sounding a little shy.

She wanted to! Hands gripping the bottom of the window she bent low enough to press her lips to Quinn's. The blonde had probably meant for it to be a quick, chaste peck – they were on her driveway in broad daylight after all – but Rachel was still feeling a little needy and kept her lips hostage until Quinn finally pulled back with a giggle.

"Okay, Berry, it's not like you're seeing me off on a long sea voyage. Save some for later."

She just grinned and stepped back as Quinn started the car and slid it into reverse.

Rachel waved as she backed out of the driveway and Quinn raised a hand from the wheel in reply before she was gone. Not even caring any more about Quinn's date with Finn – that was now going to be forty-five minutes long at best, ha! – she skipped back to the house for lunch, wondering if she could ask her Dads what she should wear that night or if that would be too much of a giveaway.

31


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry I haven't been replying to feedback individually recently, I'm just ridiculously busy with rl. I appreciate every comment left for me though. For those of you hating on Quinn right now I'm not going to apologize. She was a nasty piece of work for the first half of season 1. I will promise she'll improve, and I promise Rachel still has a backbone, and I'll also promise Santana will stop being a cardboard cut out in a about 4 chapters time, but for everything else you'll have to keep reading.

 **Chapter Four:**

 **You Have To Make It Work, Or Else Nothing Works At all.**

Quinn was happy. The morning had been a little hit-or-miss with them arguing practically as much as they were getting along, but the thing she was finding with Rachel: even when the girl was pissing her off so much she wanted to smother her with a pillow, she'd still rather be with her than anyone else.

It was disconcerting, but not something she felt the need to run away from – at least not yet. She had to find a way to get her to stop pushing for answers all the time though; for answers that Quinn didn't have, about things she didn't want to think too hard about. It was understandable that Rachel was confused about their current situation, but surely she couldn't be more confused than Quinn was?

She hadn't wanted to leave any more than Rachel had wanted her to leave. Quinn had been preparing herself to spend a lonely weekend after seeing Finn, anxiously waiting for Monday when she could see Rachel again, if only from afar. If Rachel hadn't been being such a little brat about it, she'd have never have had the courage to ask to see her again on the same day – because how desperate would that have made her look?

Not that Quinn knew where she was going to take her later. Staying in Rachel's room for the evening would have suited better. It wasn't like she could take her for a meal or to the movie theatre; that would be pushing her luck too far. On a Saturday night in Lima, with limited things for teenagers to do, they were bound to run into somebody they knew.

If only she hadn't implied it was a date.

Despite that problem, she was still excited for the evening to arrive. The hours in-between were going to seem so dull.

She chastised herself when she remembered one of those hours was going to be spent with Finn and, while they never had the most scintillating conversations, it wasn't charitable to call her boyfriend dull. Besides, as she was almost certain he was going to break up with her and she was going to do everything in her power to stop him, this was probably going to be the most interesting conversation they'd ever had!

Her good mood slowly fell the closer she drove to the restaurant, the way they'd parted coming back in startling detail. Seriously, Rachel forgot their _first kiss_ but Quinn couldn't even forget one traumatizing event from last night? Clearly her brain handled alcohol all wrong.

* * *

 _She'd caught up with Finn shortly after the crowning had been turned into a more entertaining spectacle on stage. Figgins was still shouting into the microphone that the perpetrator would be_ _ **suspended!**_ _She was still giggling about it when a shadow loomed over her._

" _Hey," she greeted him, reaching out to touch his arm. "I was starting to think I'd lost you." Realizing she shouldn't be putting such ideas in his head she hurried on, "Did you see that?"_

 _He half-smiled and a light blush lit up his cheeks, "Yeah, it was kind of hard to miss. Was it Brittany? I recognized the hat."_

 _She shrugged, glad that Puck had been so fast about it that even his best friend hadn't realized it was him. That would make it hard for Figgins to identify him later. She wasn't worried about Brittany; she tended to be the center of attention at school dances so there would be alibis._

" _Where have you been?"_

" _Around. Hiding," he admitted after a moment._

" _From me?"_

" _No, of course not," he was lying._

" _I'm sorry, Finn. I did what I thought I had to, but it was a mistake."_

" _Trying to kiss Rachel or telling the whole school about it?"_

 _She shrugged again, uncomfortably, "Both. Can we put it behind us?"_

 _He held her eyes for a moment but it was only when his gaze dropped to her stomach that he smiled._

" _Yeah, I guess so. We've both done some stupid things because of… because of…"_

 _She helped him out, "Rachel?"_

" _Yeah."_

 _She waited for him to elaborate but he didn't; he just stuck his hands in the pockets of his pants and shuffled his feet._

" _I'm willing to overlook your indiscretion if you can do the same with mine?"_

" _My what?"_

" _You kissing Rachel."_

" _Oh, yeah, that. Okay, thanks, and, uh, yeah, you too."_

 _She smiled and gently placed a hand on his elbow, "So, did you want to dance? There are only a few songs left."_

" _Sure."_

 _They walked closer to the stage but stayed on the outskirts of the dancefloor, away from the flashing lights, and there she wrapped her arms around his waist as Mariah Carey began to play. He held her close with his hands, encouraging her to rest her head on his chest. It was nice. It would have been even nicer if she could stop listening to the lyrics and wishing she was dancing with someone else instead. She was almost in tears by the time the song came to a close, merging seamlessly into something new. She pulled away from him, blinking._

" _Are you okay?"_

" _Yeah, just tired. It's been a long day."_

 _He nodded and reached out to wipe something wet from her cheek. Damn, she actually was crying! She pulled her face away._

" _Sorry, hormones," she said with a laugh that she hoped didn't sound fake._

 _He leaned down a little, smiling as he brushed another tear from her face, "How about I get you home? I don't think anything else exciting is going to happen tonight anyway."_

 _When she smiled back, it felt watery, "Okay, thank you."_

 _They were halfway across the gym when they were accosted._

" _Whoa-ho, Hudson, leaving so soon and with someone else's date? That's rude," Azimio Adams grinned at him as he blocked their path, "Does Berry know you're trying to steal her girl?"_

 _Shit! How should she deal with this? Come on, she needed something fast!_

" _Shut up!" Oh, yeah, that was the snappy comeback she needed!_

 _Finn's wasn't much better, "Back off, dude, you don't know what you're talking about!"_

 _David Karofsky stepped up, "Hey, Finn, I wanted to apologize."_

" _What for?" he asked warily._

" _I've been calling you gay for over a month now and I finally realize how offensive that is," Quinn glared at the hockey player but Finn, stupidly, seemed to relax a little, "I should have been calling you a lesbian!"_

" _Back off, Karofsky!" Finn wanted to lunge at him but Quinn's hand hooking under his arm kept him by her side._

" _Not that I am a lesbian," she said loud enough for her voice to carry to those nearest the fray, "But even if I was, that would still make Finn more of a stud than you two will ever be. I mean, look at you? You can't even get a straight girl as a date; that's why you're here together."_

 _She may have worded that a little wrong, but she'd induced enough fury in them that they didn't notice her slip._

" _Fuck you, Fabray!" Karofsky took a step closer, fists clenched but still at his sides, posturing mostly with his puffed out chest. "You wanna go around kissing girls like a boy, I got no problem beating you down like one."_

" _Yeah, I'd like to see you try, you pathetic meathead!" That might have been the alcohol talking._

" _Yeah, really?" Karofsky took another step closer, "You sure about that?"_

" _Stay the fuck away from her, asshole!" Finn pushed him back and when Azimio fronted for his friend, Finn shoved his chest too, making him back up a step._

" _Oh no, you did not just do that!" Azimio threw his arms up in offense, "I ain't like you, I don't need no lesbian touching me; I can get a real woman." Finn took a swing at him and Azimio ducked back just in time, "Oh, you're lucky I have a moral problem with hitting girls, Finnessa!"_

 _Finn took another swing that only didn't connect because Quinn dragged him back by his other arm, "Stop it, they're just trying to get a rise out of you, Finn. Don't let them."_

 _Finn trembled furiously next to her, glaring._

" _Guess we know who wears the pants in that relationship!" Karofsky crowed._

" _Like there was even any doubt!"_

 _At least she was wearing the pants in one of her relationships! Not that she was in a relationship with Rachel… Okay, she'd lost focus a little there and Finn was lunging again._

" _Shut up!"_

" _Ooh, I think we touched a nerve," Azimio coo'd._

" _What do you expect, he's a big girl!"_

 _Grabbing his arm, Quinn hauled him back again, "Can't you just please ignore them? I told you they're not worth it!"_

" _That's easy for you to say!"_

 _No, it really wasn't._

 _Finn wrenched his arm away, "You don't get it! I'm a dude! I don't need you acting all butch and defending me!"_

 _Now Quinn seethed, "I am not acting_ butch _, and if you_ ever _call me that again I will dump your ass so fast no one will even remember that I let you date me in the first place! It is not my fault you let those jerks emasculate you, Finn!"_

" _Yes it is! It's all your fault. You're the one who kissed another girl!"_

" _Finn!" she hissed, all too aware of the crowd this little show had drawn._

" _No! You did this!" He took several steps back from her, hands raised to keep her at bay, "And you found your own way here, so you can find your own way home."_

 _He turned and left, barging through people on his way to the doors. Quinn was left staring after him, in a circle of whispering spectators._

* * *

She pulled into the Breadstix parking lot and saw Finn leaning on his Mom's car. She gave him a wave and he nodded but didn't approach her after she'd found a space, just waited for her to walk over to him.

"Hey, sorry I'm late. My car was nearly out of gas so I stopped on my way."

"S'okay," he pushed off of the blue Pinto, "Are you hungry?" His hand moved to scratch the back of his neck as she tried to take it.

She pretended not to notice and smiled, "Shall we go in?"

Breadstix was one of the most popular restaurants in Lima, especially on a Saturday afternoon. Finn hadn't thought to make a reservation, so they waited for fifteen minutes to be seated. It was an awkward, mostly silent fifteen minutes.

"What can I get you?" their waiter asked.

Finn stared at the menu, "I don't know, what can be cooked and eaten in ten minutes?"

The waiter shrugged, "A salad?"

Finn sighed, "I'll take a burger with everything but can you put it in a take-out box so I don't have to waste time getting it wrapped up when I need to go?"

"Of course, and for the lady?"

She smirked at him, "I'll have a chicken salad."

"In a take-out box?"

"No."

"So," Finn drummed his fingers on the table once they were alone, "Last night was really bad."

"It was."

"I shouldn't have left you like that."

"No, you shouldn't have."

"Don't you want to apologize for anything?"

"I already have. I'm not apologizing for what happened with those idiots. That was not my fault," she kept her voice calm but firm.

"It kind of was. They only started on me because of you."

"Maybe," she conceded, "but it's not my fault you let them get to you."

Finn looked down at his paper place-mat, "You tried to kiss another girl, Quinn, and not just any girl: Rachel!"

Heart hammering, she still made a good job of keeping her voice steady, "I thought we'd already talked through this?"

"We did, but I never asked… are you, like…?"

Quinn swallowed, hard, "Like what?"

"Do you actually like Rachel?"

There was suddenly a deafening calm in her head, "No."

"So you're not, like, into her or anything?"

"No."

"So you didn't try and kiss her because you wanted to kiss her?"

"No."

"And you're not like, a secret lesbian or whatever?"

Quinn's mind was swimming, it would have been pleasant under any other circumstances, "No."

"Sorry for the twenty questions, but I needed to know, you know?"

"It's fine," her brain was going to come back to shore at some point, right? "I'm sorry I made you doubt me."

"I didn't, not really. Well, I guess I did. It's just been an intense week with everyone telling me you're into Rachel. Last night was just a bit too much, I guess," he paused, fidgeting with his cutlery, bouncing them lightly against the table like drum sticks. They hardly made any sound but Quinn watched them go up and down. "If you were, you'd tell me though, right? I mean, I could probably be okay with it if you just told me."

She knew this trick; although she'd never expected him to use it on her.

"I'm not into Rachel, Finn. Why would I be when I have you?"

"Okay," Finn finally seemed to relax, setting his knife and fork down and slouching back in the booth. "So, Matt's having a party because his parents are going to Cabo or somewhere for their anniversary. I wasn't gonna ask because I know you're not really into it right now, what with the baby and all, but maybe we should go." The automatic 'okay' was on the tip of her tongue but he was so unused to such a notion that he was already laying out his list of reasons. "We haven't been out since Puck's party and that was weeks ago. And you've been so weird and moody over the stuff going on in Glee recently that it's kinda not fun to be around you in school, no offense. And I know you don't like parties at the moment because they make you feel sick, but it's not going to be a rager. His neighbors are kind of jerks so he has to keep it low profile. I just think it would be nice to, I don't know, have some fun with our friends together, like… as, you know, a couple."

"Okay."

He didn't hear her, "You're having my baby, but honestly, except when you're yelling at me about it, it sometimes feels like you don't even want me around for anything. Like it could be anybody's baby and it wouldn't even make any difference. Like I don't even matter."

And just as she'd been inching towards being back on dry land, the dark tide came and took her mind away again, "Yeah, sorry." She shook it away; she'd lost control of too many things lately, she wasn't losing control of Finn as well, "Of course you matter to me. I'm just scared and when I get scared I close off. I'll try not to do it anymore, okay?" Reaching across the table to take his hand she smiled at him, "And of course I'll go to Matt's party with you. You're right, we need to spend more time together."

She really had to start being more sensitive to his feelings. It was easy to forget he even had any, because he was a boy for one, but also up until now he'd always been so laid back with her. They'd been dating four months before he'd stood up to her for the first time – and that had been over joining Glee. She hadn't been wrong about it causing trouble between them, had she? Except she'd gotten it the wrong way around and it was her eyes following Rachel around the choir room, not his.

She knew he was scared about the baby too, but as often as she could she just brushed his fears aside as unimportant to focus on her own. She'd been a terrible girlfriend all around, really, because she also hadn't given a thought to how her performance last night might leave him shaken.

He was feeling foolish and no wonder: Karofsky and Azimio had really gotten to him. Questioning his sexuality was bad enough, but apparently questioning his girlfriend's was worse; _that_ questioned his status as a man and was a far greater crime.

It was something he was super-sensitive about, she knew. He'd always been the 'man of the house' at home, ever since he was a little boy he'd felt that he had to be for his mom, and it leaked out all over his personality. It was why being the Leading Man in Glee had made the loser club so appealing for him. Why he hadn't really questioned her explanation about the baby's conception, or used his doubts as a reason to run away from the responsibility. Why he'd stepped up and accepted his fate as a teenage father instead.

Why hadn't she given that any consideration before making her speech? But she hadn't set _out_ to hurt him; she hadn't truly realized she had the power to. It was something new, a boy with genuine feelings for her. She wasn't used to it. Unless it was just his pride that was hurt, the realist in her added darkly. Even if it was, that didn't make it okay that she had disregarded his feelings. Whatever else happened between them, whether they ended today or not, he could never find out what had _actually_ taken place between her and Rachel; he didn't deserve that.

When her salad was set down in front of her she jerked her out of her thoughts and realized Finn was talking to her, and she had no idea how long he had been speaking.

"So, it'll be awesome. Mike's already said he'd give us a ride because you gave him one last time, so you don't even have to drive."

She grimaced at that idea, or just at Mike's name maybe, but pretended it was over some imaginary dirt on her knife and set it aside, "No, I'll drive us. In case I get sick while I'm there, I'd rather have my car."

"Okay, I'll text him not to bother," Finn agreed readily.

Quinn watched as he pulled his phone out and struggled to text with one hand and eat his giant burger with the other. It was gross, but kind of funny too, and she smiled at him as she picked through her salad with her fork.

"So what night is it?"

"I just told you. It's tonight."

"Oh, right I for… got," Shit! Not tonight! She looked back up at her boyfriend, "Finn, I can't, not tonight."

"Why? It's Saturday. It's not like we have school tomorrow."

"But I have church. I can't be out late."

"But your curfew is always later on a Saturday."

It was. Sunday to Thursday it was ten-thirty but it got bumped up to eleven-thirty on the weekends, but only providing her Dad knew exactly where she was and what she was doing and who she was doing it with.

"It's too short notice! My parents aren't going to let me go to a party at the drop of a hat and there's no time to get someone to pretend to be Mrs. Rutherford either."

"Won't Santana do it?"

"I'm not sure Santana is even speaking to me."

"Then Brittany?"

"It's too risky, Finn. I'm already laying low with my parents because of the pregnancy, I can't do anything to make them mad at me."

He finished sending his text and took a dejected bite of his burger. When he'd finished chewing, well mostly, he said, "So don't tell them you're going to a party. It's not like it's going to be anything crazy, anyway. It's starting at six because Matt needs everyone gone by like ten-thirty, his neighbors will complain about the noise of us all leaving. And he hasn't invited that many people. Just a couple of guys on the football team – not Azimio," he said with feeling, "or any of the jerks. A few kids from his classes and the guys in Glee, that's all. As long as you're home before your curfew they don't even have to know, right?"

"He's invited the Gleeks?" she asked, surprised.

"Yeah, last night at the dance. I think it's kind of a peace offering for being mean to them the last few weeks."

Rachel couldn't know about it, Quinn realized, or she'd know about it. If Rachel was invited though, her problem was solved. They couldn't go together but at least it wouldn't be totally like she was standing her up.

"He invited everyone in Glee? Even Artie and Tina?"

"Yeah!" He went from smiling to looking awkward, "Except I don't think Rachel is going to be there. He mentioned asking her and Mike kind of said no and nobody else tried to change his mind, so…"

Asshole!

Quinn tried to keep her tone surprised, "Not even you?"

"I know it's not her fault you tried to kiss her or whatever, but I was still kinda pissed at her," he shrugged uncomfortably and took another bite of his burger. "She's used to not being invited to parties though, so I doubt she'll really care."

' _Yes she will! She'll be devastated to find out she was the only one not invited and she might put a brave face on it at school, but she'll feel awful. And she'll blame me. Especially if I freaking go!'_

"I can't make it tonight, Finn, I'm sorry. Can we do something tomorrow night instead?"

"Why? Do you have plans with someone else?" She made the mistake of hesitating while she thought something up, "Because pretty much everyone you ever hang out with is going to be there tonight already."

She could lie, make someone up, but he'd see right through it after her hesitation. Even if Finn didn't put two and two together, her absence would be noticed along with Rachel's. Santana would jump on making a thing out of it even if it wasn't true, and it was, so…

She had no choice.

"No, I'm not doing anything else. I'll come tonight, but I've been feeling queasy all day. If it gets worse I might go home early. You'll be able to get a ride with Mike though, won't you?"

She could make this work. If the party was starting at six, she could still meet Rachel in plenty of time. She could have over an hour with Finn, where she could be a dutiful girlfriend and be seen out being happy with her boyfriend and after that… Rachel.

"Yeah, no problem, but hopefully you won't start feeling sick."

She smiled, "Hopefully."

"Tonight is going to be awesome!" Finn declared, and his enthusiasm was infectious enough that she grinned, "And after everyone sees us together they'll forget all about what you did."

Quinn kept her grin with effort, "Yeah."

"That is what you want, right?"

That was the first easy question she'd been asked in a while, "Totally!"

* * *

Rachel had made a mistake; that mistake being that she'd agreed to have Quinn pick her up straight from class. It meant she had to choose what she was going to wear _before_ her vocal lesson which didn't give her anywhere near enough time!

She'd already sat through a delicious but agonizing lunch playing 'Twenty Questions about Quinn Fabray.' She'd managed to give vague answers for each of them but that had been the hard part! She wasn't cut out for vague answers on any subject and the fact that she wanted to wax lyrical about every little thing to do with Quinn just made it all the more torturous.

She'd survived it, though, and while she hadn't managed to make her parents enamored with Quinn, she hadn't said anything that encouraged them to dislike her, either.

They hadn't openly spoken about their concerns in front of her, merely nodding along with her answers before asking more questions – How long had Quinn been with her boyfriend? Was she planning on keeping the baby? Did her parents know? Had she been to a doctor yet? What had caused the sudden turn around between the two of them? Did Rachel really trust her friendship? How were her grades? And the weirdest of all: But don't you think you're a little young for this kind of responsibility, Baby Girl?

Her Dad had shushed her Daddy at that point. He seemed more than willing to give Quinn a chance, while her Daddy – usually the more easy-going of the two – was apprehensive. Something her Dad seemed to find as surprising as she did.

Rachel frowned, "Too young to be a friend indeed to someone in need?"

"You know I'm not talking about…"

Her Dad cut in, "We're just concerned that Quinn may be feeling lonely right now and is latching on to you because you're the only person who is nice enough to give a damn."

"You think Quinn is only being friends with me because no one else will be her friend?"

"Yes," her Daddy stated emphatically.

"No," her Dad countered. "We're just saying be careful. You give your heart freely, you always have, and that's not a bad thing. Just make sure the people you give it to deserve it."

"Quinn is the most popular girl in school! She's not short of friends. Perhaps her spending time with me is an anomaly, but I prefer to think that that doesn't make our… our acquaintanceship any less valid."

"Of course it doesn't, Sweetpea."

She knew when she was being humored and left the table shortly afterwards.

The conversation stayed in her mind, though, all throughout the time she spent doing her homework, through a thirty minute Pilates routine, and during her subsequent shower. Even her _Dads_ thought Quinn might be using her! Although their reasons for thinking it were a little ambiguous, it was still another seed of doubt.

She pushed it to the back of her mind because she had more important things to worry about. Like what was she going to wear for their date! She had thirty minutes before she had to leave for her vocal class and that was _not_ enough time!

* * *

Quinn arranged to pick Finn up at five-thirty. It would give them a little more time together and it shortened the time she was on her own thinking about Rachel.

All good.

Because they had time to kill, she went inside. Carol greeted her with the usual polite detachment. She asked how Quinn had been, Quinn apologized for not being around much recently. It was pleasant enough but not particularly warm.

She couldn't imagine Carol Hudson ever challenging her to an arm-wrestling contest, even as a joke.

She played the good girlfriend… no, not played, _was_ the good girlfriend. She complimented Carol on her new perm and gushed for at least two minutes about how good Finn was in Glee Club – because the way to a mother's heart was always through her son; Frannie had told her once.

Carol seemed receptive to her charms for once – had she never put in this much effort before? – and stood with her in the kitchen while Finn dug through the small hall closet for the sneakers he wanted to wear.

"You know, you probably get this all the time, but I really admire you. I've been to Finn's games, I've seen how hard you cheerleaders must work, yet you always look so neatly put together after your practices; look not a hair out of place," Carol smiled, "I don't know how you do it."

"Oh, we didn't have practice today," registering the woman's confusion, Quinn looked down at her uniform. She'd worn jeans and a fitted t-shirt over to Rachel's and to Breadstix, but she had changed her clothes for the party. It was just a thing that they did; enforced in school and a habit outside of it. They'd worn these uniforms, these second skins, with so much pride throughout Freshman year, it was ridiculous now that it felt like it was made of concrete, restricting her every move.

"It's in the Cheerios regulations," she explained to Carol, and it was true enough to only be a little white lie. "We have to wear our squad uniforms at high school events, even private ones."

"That sounds a little…" the woman grimaced and Quinn nodded.

"It used to be mandatory even in church, but all of the town's priests and pastors took a petition to the school board and Coach Sylvester had to stop," that had happened in Frannie's one and only year at McKinley and Quinn could still remember her daddy's outrage and the arguments he and her sister had had about it.

"She sounds awful."

Quinn couldn't agree more but was too loyal to say so aloud and Finn finally found his sneakers and came back into the kitchen.

"Oh shi-oot!" Finn said urgently, when he saw that the clock read ten-to-the-hour, "We're gonna be late."

"It's okay to turn up five minutes after a party starts, Finn," she said, rolling her eyes affectionately for his Mom's sake, but she was still so, so glad to be getting out of there.

"Just drive safe," she said to Quinn, patting her arm – that was a new one – before she grabbed a hold of Finn's neck and pulled him down to kiss his cheek.

"Mom!" He wriggled away from her but he was grinning.

Quinn found she was grinning too. It was troubling.

* * *

"Why must you keep looking down, Rachel?" Mrs. Badger asked again. "You can't reach the full capacity in your chest with your chin tucked in like that!"

"Sorry, Mrs. Badger," she raised her head again, happy that her dress hadn't wrinkled. Yet.

"Okay, let's begin again from… Rachel, lift your head up!"

"Sorry, Mrs. Badger!"

* * *

The party actually wasn't bad; in fact calling it a party was a bit of a misnomer because it felt more like the teenage version of one of her Mom's afternoon tea parties.

Despite his friendship with her boyfriend, Quinn didn't know Matt that well so this was the first time she'd been in his play room. To her, the name conjured images of soft-play equipment and a bunch of toddlers running wild, but the truth was far from that. There was a semi-circle of low couches around a very decently sized television that took up one half of the room and the other half was given up to a ping-pong table at one end and a DJ station – the cool kind with twin decks – at the other. There was also what appeared to be a microphone attached to it and a video recorder. She hadn't even know Matt was into this stuff… and as soon as she thought it she realized how stupid it was. She didn't know _anything_ that Matt was interested in outside of Glee club and football.

"Don't let Rachel see this," she said without thinking. "She'll want to start recording her Myspace videos in here."

"Good advice," Matt grinned and then droned on for five minutes about his superhero figurines. Quinn would have been more interested in the records on the shelf below, but was too polite to say so. After all, for all she knew, maybe most girl's _loved_ hearing about his Marvel toys. Finn joined in enough for the both of them anyway and it wasn't long before Matt remembered _his_ manners and offered her a drink.

There were cans of beer available but most people were drinking soda or water – pretty much anyone who had accidentally drunk the spiked punch last night was drinking soda or water – Kurt had even procured himself hot tea, complete with china cup. Quinn took a water and vowed to enjoy herself for the next hour. These were her friends; it shouldn't be that hard.

The music was loud enough that you had to raise your voice a little if the person you were talking to wasn't sitting right next to you, but it wasn't overbearing. A few people were sitting on the couches eating. Matt had even prepared _hors d'oeuvre_ to go with the stack of pizzas he'd ordered.

Santana and Brittany were a splash of color on the designated dancefloor between the ping-pong table and the decks. They were in uniform too, unsurprisingly, marking them as the only three Cheerios in the room. Quinn wondered if Santana ever felt the weight of it these days too. Was that why she could such a bitch sometimes? She hadn't been so prickly when they'd first met, in middle school. While never as sweet and laid-back as Brittany, McKinley had made a good job of sharpening any edges that were already there.

They hadn't spoken yet tonight, hadn't spoken since _last night_ actually, and it left Quinn off-kilter. Especially at times like this. She should be dancing _with_ them, but even though Brittany had caught her wrist while Quinn was hearing about superheroes, she hadn't felt welcome enough to join in.

The same couldn't be said for Mike as soon as he finished eating. Quinn watched the three of them move to the beat of whatever record was playing – Quinn didn't know, it sounded like something that would be played at a rave! – and sat alone on the loveseat with a slice of pepperoni pizza and a solo cup of water.

That was how the first twenty minutes of the party went for her, but then it turned on a dime.

The rest of the boys were playing Wii Mario and Sonic Winter Olympics on the 50" television and the other girls had split into two distinct groups. Tina, Mercedes and Kurt in one and all the rest in another. And both seemed to be gossiping about the other.

Well, three groups actually because Quinn was now playing with the boys.

She hadn't intended to. She'd been perfectly happy sitting alone in the corner, eating a second slice of pizza and discreetly checking her watch every few minutes, but Finn had had other ideas, dragging her up beside him when it was his turn to play virtual Ice Hockey. It was all part of the united front he wanted to project, she guessed, and she had to agree it couldn't hurt.

He lost the game, which was hardly a surprise – all she seemed to bring him these days was bad luck – and handed the controller over to her. She hadn't had to give it up since.

They were skiing right now and Quinn was beating every guy who stepped up to face her, which wasn't surprising – she was probably the only one of them who'd even seen a real pair of skis.

She was still keeping a very close eye on the time, because this was just filler; her real evening's entertainment wouldn't begin until she picked up Rachel. That's when she would really start to enjoy her Saturday night. She still didn't know where they were going to go, because there wasn't anywhere they could go in Lima without risk and she didn't really know anywhere outside of Lima.

Next time, she'd do some research first. Google the nightlife in the surrounding towns and plan it all properly but she didn't just want to drive some-place else tonight in the hopes that they'd find something good to do by chance. They'd probably end up spending the entire date in the car if they did…

Hmm.

Interesting.

"Are you okay?"

She blinked up at Finn, smiling brightly, "I am actually. Why?"

He pointed to the television screen, "You're upside down in a snow drift."

She laughed, "There was a rock under the snow. Obstruction. Rematch."

"They don't have rocks under the snow," Puck said through gritted teeth, swishing his way to victory now that Quinn was incapacitated.

"There was a rock. Under. The. Snow!" she told him slowly. "Stop cheating and restart the race."

"No way!"

Despite the obvious, Quinn still held enough power – suspected lesbian or not – to glare the others into submission. She beat a grumbling Puck by a cool fifteen seconds their second time down the slope.

"Eat my snow, Loser," she grinned at him, before calling out. "Okay, who wants me to ski right through them next? Oh come on," she added when no one volunteered. "Doesn't anyone dare challenge me for my title?"

Mike finally left the makeshift dancefloor and stepped up, "My family goes skiing in Vail every year."

Quinn looked him up and down, careful not to show her surprise, and then nodded at the equipment Puck was still holding, "Come on then, let's see if you can take _this_ away from me any easier."

It was a stupid comment to make but, damn it, it was Chang and he just riled her. Nobody else seemed to get it though, thankfully. Okay, maybe Mike did because his eyebrows got lost in his bangs and he grinned like he couldn't believe she was real as he took the Wii (ski) stick from Puck's hands.

Mike selected the hardest, longest course but Quinn didn't quail, she just readied herself to go.

And then it was on!

Within seconds, everyone was drawn over by the shouting as they raced down the black diamond run at what would have been a suicidal speed if it had been real. They cut each other off on bends, swerved dangerously to try and send the other into cliff-faces and snowbanks, and were both completely ignoring the concept of fair-play and yet they remained almost side by side. Mike was smoother on the turns, his hips twisting more precisely thanks to his dancers grace but Quinn knew exactly which risks to take, allowing herself to slide too far left into deeper snow because the payoff was a jump that cut off seconds of track.

Sensing this wasn't just a friendly game, the other kids crowded closer to them, feeding on their energy. Matt and Santana were cheering for Mike, Finn and Brittany were cheering for Quinn, and everyone else was just generally cheering. Puck clapped Mike on the back in encouragement and received an elbow in the stomach as it hampered the boy's movements. Likewise, Patti Alexander (she was Santana's lab partner for Chemistry, but Quinn had no idea how she knew Matt) found herself face-planting Finn's chest when she came between Quinn and the big screen _for a second_.

She could do this, she could so do this! Mike was good but she was better. In so many ways. It had to be true; it had the Rachel Berry stamp of approval.

She went wide and bent her knees for the last jump, leaning forward in the hopes that it would make her fly faster through the pixilated air, and then twisted her hips to the right so that she wouldn't overshoot the final bend as she landed. That _should_ have seen her ahead and with so little of the race to go, it _should_ have been enough, but Mike had followedher path this time, jumping so close behind her their bodies merged in a clash of red and blue until the console could sort out who was who.

They crossed the checkered flag side by side and, dropping the tiny plastic poles, Quinn stepped closer to the TV to see the result. Again they were side by side.

"What? No way!" Quinn snapped, dismayed to see that they both had the exact same time down to the last point whatever of a second.

"Looks like I'm still in the game after all," Mike murmured.

Quinn turned to glare at him, his point not lost on her. She was about to say something cutting – and probably foolish – back but amid the calls for a rematch, her eye caught the clock on the wall behind him.

It was seven-twenty and it would take at least ten minutes to get to the Lima Community Arts Centre from here.

And she still _had to_ extricate herself. Her plan had been to fake sickness around six-thirty so that when she finally left at seven-fifteen it would look to Finn like she'd at least tried to ignore it.

She'd forgotten to do that.

So what was her new plan?

"I've played enough," she started with to calm the requests that she race Mike again, "I don't want to hog the game all night."

"But you can't just leave it as a draw, not after that!" Artie said, waving his arms in an effort to describe how epic their race had been.

"No seriously. I've had enough for one night," she put her hand on her stomach. Not everyone there was in the know about her pregnancy so she didn't elaborate, hoping the gesture would be enough.

It was for Finn, "Hey, why don't you sit down? I'll get you a bottle of water."

The last thing she wanted to do was sit down but he was already shepherding her towards the couch. She ducked away from his well-meaning hands before her butt landed on a cushion but snuck an arm around his waist as she leaned in to talk softly.

"Actually, that pizza was so good I think I ate too much of it and it's… not sitting so well."

"Oh," he kind of half-frowned, half-smiled at her as he nodded his understanding.

She hadn't been speaking softly enough, apparently, and Kurt had been standing extremely close to Finn.

"You're not feeling well, Quinn?" He didn't keep his voice down at all. "You seemed fine a minute ago."

She glared and mouthed 'its morning sickness, you moron!' as in Shut Up! and he did look mildly sorry as he gave her an apologetic grimace, but the damage had been done.

"Are you trying to claim you didn't beat Mike because you were sick?" Matt teased with a smile.

"Do you need to lie down?" Brittany said, coming over to feel her forehead in concern. "You don't have fever-head."

"You look fine," Mercedes said.

"Well I'm not," she snapped. "I think I should go."

"You are fine! I've seen you puke enough times to know when you're about to." Oh great, she and Santana were talking again. "Got somewhere better to be, Q? Like a hot date? Going _bowling_ again maybe?"

"Of course not. I just drank too much of that punch last night and I've been feeling off all day. Not that it's any of your business what I do."

"It's kinda mine though, right?" Finn said.

"Dude, let her go if she's not feeling well."

She eyed Puck warily, grateful for his support but leery of his intentions. Did he genuinely believe she was feeling sick, or did he believe Santana and was hoping it would lead to more gay-panic that he could help her with down the line?

Either way, the clock on the wall now read seven-twenty-five. She could put her foot down and run every red light and she was still going to be late. With every eye on her, she thought about forgetting the date, sneaking Finn's phone from his pocket and excusing herself to the bathroom instead of leaving. She could call Rachel and explain the situation. They could always do something tomorrow afternoon instead.

But, she wanted to see Rachel. If she stayed, she'd just feel awkward and uncomfortable and disappointed the entire night so what was the point?

"Thanks, Matt, I've had fun but I really just want to go home to bed," she turned a cool look on Mike, "If you want a re-match? I'll be _all_ over it." He knew exactly what she was talking about; he may have even gotten the double-entendre because he frowned. "Brit, Santana, see you Monday. Finn, come outside with me?" She took his hand, giving him little choice unless he wanted to cause a scene.

At the end of the long, sloping driveway she leaned back against her car and pulled Finn closer to her as she levelled with him, well sort of.

"I'm sorry. I'm not feeling sick, I just felt really uncomfortable in there."

"Why?"

Quinn shrugged, "Because of the stupid thing I did last night. I tried to ignore it but you saw the way none of the girls would even talk to me. Even Santana is nervous of me." That was a complete falsehood but it explained Santana's hostile attitude more safely than the truth would. "And Mike hates me because he likes Rachel. I don't blame him but…" she reached up a hand to smooth over the small white buttons of his jersey, "It's going to take a while before everyone realizes I'm not actually into Rachel and I just can't handle it any more tonight."

He bought it, "Do you want me to leave with you? We could just watch a movie at my place."

"No, you need to stay and have fun. I really do just want to go to bed and block everything out for a while."

"Okay," he said gently, giving her a small smile, "Do you want to do something tomorrow?"

She nodded, "Call me after church."

It had to be getting on for seven-forty now or more. How long would Rachel wait before she thought she'd been stood up?

There was one more thing she had to do before she left though, "Kiss me goodnight?"

Finn grinned and didn't need to be asked twice. Through her half closed eyes she saw a triangle of soft orange light up the driveway as someone inside tweaked the curtains to spy on them. It could have been Santana or Puck or even Mike, but she didn't care who. Anyone seeing them was good enough; not another fetish, just damage control.

When his tongue swept into her mouth, she pulled back; it felt surprisingly alien after the kisses she'd shared with Rachel. At his questioning look, she utilized their peeper.

"We're being watched," she nodded her head towards the house. "And I'm not looking to give a free show."

"You never know, it might be a good thing," he grinned and did something adorable with his eyebrows.

She playfully slapped his arm, "I'm going now."

Giving him one last peck she slipped into her car. He gave her a wave as she started the engine but didn't hang around to see her go.

Only focused on how late she was, she threw the car in to reverse and shot back out onto the street. Her heart nearly stopped at the loud, irate honk of a horn behind her. Heart hammering, she watched as the pissed off driver swerved around her. Rachel definitely looked cuter flipping her the bird than that guy did.

She took a deep, calming breath and pulled her seatbelt on.

 _Rachel._

She hit the gas again.


	5. Chapter 5

Thank you for all the reviews :) and sorry about the massive delay, it's been a really busy couple of months. It shouldn't happen again.

* * *

 **Chapter Five: Dating in the Dark.**

Rachel shuffled her low-heeled, thin-strapped dress shoes under the only street lamp in the back parking lot of the Lima Community Arts Center, as she wondered whether to press call or not. She'd had the phone in her hand for ten minutes, her home number on the screen for five but she wasn't ready to give up hope yet.

She was close to it though. After all, Quinn may have turned up that morning but she'd been over an hour late, and Rachel was not standing outside for an hour on an extremely crisp late September evening. She wasn't even wearing a coat!

She'd already walked back around to the front once, in case Quinn had forgotten or changed her mind and waited there instead, but upon seeing Mrs. Pierce – Brittany's mom – exit the center with a couple of other women, she'd had to dive into the bushes and crawl back around the building. Why? She didn't know, because it wasn't like _Quinn_ was anywhere around to even be associated with her!

Now the hem of her dress and the toes of her expensive shoes were covered in mud and Rachel wasn't getting any happier.

Her thumb was actually touching the green button when the red Volkswagen came around the corner and into the nearly empty parking lot at break-neck speed and turned in a tight almost-circle before pulling smoothly up beside Rachel's lamp post.

Quinn hopped out, already apologizing, "I'm sorry I'm late. There was this thing. I couldn't get away… Oh wow!" Quinn stopped a foot away and looked her up and down, "You look…" Then she looked herself up and down and started laughing, "Oops."

"I look what? Muddy?" She didn't appreciate this reaction to the amount of effort she had put in, "That's because I had to hide in the bushes from Brittany's mom and, as I did that for _you,_ I'd really appreciate it if you didn't mock me for it."

"Not mocking you, mocking me. You look awesome and I look… like this."

"What do you mean? You look wonderful."

She had changed into her Cheerios uniform, which Rachel found a little odd for a date but Rachel wasn't put off by it. On the contrary, she was happy that Quinn felt so comfortable being herself with her and she was always stunning no matter what she wore. Tonight she looked especially beautiful, her eyes quick and lively as she grinned and whistled low at Rachel's dress, with a healthy color in her cheeks for a change. Her hair was loose and tousled and Quinn raked a hand absently through it as she shook her head.

"No, _you_ look amazing, but where on earth did you think I'd be taking you for you to get dressed up like that?"

"I don't know," she admitted shyly, "I just wanted to look nice for our date."

"I'd say you accomplished it," Quinn opened the passenger door for her.

"So, where are we going?"

"Oh God," Quinn groaned, "You're going to hate me."

* * *

They'd made two stops along the way – one at Walmart so that Quinn could run in for some supplies, like real cutlery and cheap china plates, and one at the Golden Duck to pick up their Chinese food.

Now they were parked as far as possible from the train tracks while still being in the empty Lima Freight Yards. She could tell Rachel wasn't exactly happy about the location of their date, but the other girl hadn't said as much, going along easily with it despite her disappointment.

"Did you want to eat in the front or the back?"

"Whatever you want is fine, Quinn."

"Back, then. If we can't see the steering wheel, maybe we can pretend we're not eating in a car."

Rachel gave her a small smile and then clambered through the seats into the back. She held out her hands to take the boxes of food, the plates, the knives, and the forks before Quinn climbed through too, with the stack of paper napkins and a couple of bottles of sparkling water.

"You didn't have to buy real plates. Paper ones would have sufficed, though since they're not particularly friendly to the planet, we could have eaten straight from the boxes. It is take-out after all."

Quinn nodded, "I know, I just didn't want to screw up our first date. I mean, if I was dating a guy and he took me to a make-out spot with boxed Chinese food for our first date, I'd think he was pretty cheap. Or I was. One of the two. Especially if I was dressed like you are now."

Rachel stopped scooping food onto her plate to look up at her, "I don't think you're cheap. And in light of our situation it's sort of roman–"

Across the yard a train rushed noisily though the darkness and Rachel jumped at the scare, almost dumping her dinner into the pocket on the back of the passenger seat, "–tic," she finished with a wry smirk as Quinn laughed quietly, "As for my outfit… I've been waiting for an occasion to wear it. My fathers bought it for me over the summer, soI'd have something nice for school dances and such but, well, I haven't been to any yet so…" with a small shrug, she went back to preparing her plate.

"In that case, I'm even more pleased that I scared Mike away from taking you to Homecoming."

"Why?"

"Well, not only can I not have anyone looking better than me at those things, it also would have totally ruined everything. Not being able to take my eyes off of you all night would have put a serious dent in the credibility of my _Are-you-nuts!-I-don't-have-a-thing-for-Rachel-Berry_! act."

Rachel smiled at the compliment then shook her head like she didn't really believe it.

"Seriously, Rachel, you look gorgeous," and she really did. The jasmine cocktail dress complimented her skin-tone and figure beautifully. Quinn was about to eagerly seal it with a kiss before a forkful of noodles got in the way. Crap, she was already leaning too close to abort the move without looking obvious and stupid. Her cheeks grew hot as she recoiled from flubbing what was supposed to be a smooth move and she irritably stabbed a fork into her own meal, self-consciously clearing her throat, "I _honestly_ didn't know you had it in you."

Rachel watched Quinn cringe at herself, while chewing and swallowing slowly before she asked, "Would you like me to disregard that last remark?"

Not looking up, she gave a slight nod, accompanied by a whispered, "Please. Sorry."

They ate in silence for a while, plates balanced on their knees, sitting far enough apart that they could have been wearing their seatbelts. The distance wasn't a result of the awkwardness caused by Quinn's kneejerk mean-ness, but because the food cartons were on the middle seat between them, it felt like it.

It wasn't long, however, before Rachel's inability to keep her mouth shut provoked her into conversation, "How was the rest of your afternoon?"

"It was okay."

"That's a little vague, Quinn. Okay how?"

"Are you asking me how things went with Finn?"

"Of course not; I'm not allowed to ask you about Finn."

Quinn sighed at Rachel's passive-aggressiveness but still answered the question she wasn't being asked, "It went okay. It was awful and tense at first but we talked things through, and I think we're going to be all right."

"I'm glad."

Yeah, Quinn could tell by her tone just how _glad_ Rachel was, "You _should_ be, we dodged the bullet."

"Yes, at least now I don't have to worry about finding your replacement when you transfer."

"My _replacement_?" Quinn cocked an eyebrow, "So if I transferred, you'd dump me just like that?" After everything she'd done for her! "I'm _that_ disposable to you?"

Rachel frowned, "Your replacement in Glee, Quinn. Obviously, if you left the school, you couldn't sing in New Directions anymore and – as you took great joy in pointing out to me a few days ago – we need at least twelve members to perform at competition level."

"Oh," her cheeks burned and something – she didn't know what yet but it was going to be more bitter than the honey chicken and boiled rice on her plate – was on the tip of her tongue.

Rachel knew that glint in her eyes and beat her to it sharply, "If so much as one mean word comes out of your mouth now, not only will _you_ be wearing the remaining contents of these boxes, Quinn Fabray, but you will also be spending the rest of this date and any dates we may have in the future _alone._ Understood?"

Quinn bit her lip against the enjoyment she found in feisty-Rachel and nodded, "Understood. If only because I don't particularly want my car to be the scene of what I can only imagine would be an epic food fight to the death."

Rachel visibly relaxed but her voice remained stern, "Then don't cause me to noodle you."

"Now who's talking dirty?"

Rachel blushed and laughed.

"Seriously, though, I think everything's going to be okay with Finn. I'm going to have to spend more time with him – because he's feeling a little neglected, which isn't fair – but I managed to talk him down from breaking up with me. Santana's going to be more difficult…"

"You're dating Santana, too?"

"Ha, you're funny. She's not going to let this go. Even if she didn't think it was true, she'd be all over an opportunity like this. I have ways of keeping her on the leash, but they're drastic and could just make everything worse. I'm not sure what to do about her yet, other than to just keep denying everything she implies. Brittany, I need to have a talk with."

"Why?"

"Because there is no doubt in my mind that she knows, and while I don't think she would ever use it against me, she has a habit of blurting out her observations indiscriminately. One sideways glance between us at the wrong time and she'll tell anybody what a great couple we make."

Rachel beamed, "You think we make a great couple?"

Quinn rolled her eyes, "I don't know what sort of couple we'd make, and it's irrelevant because we're not a couple. Which is kind of the point; I have to make sure Britt knows that."

Rachel pushed the last of her food around her plate, "Are we ever going to be a couple?"

"It hasn't even been twenty-four hours, Rachel. Stop trying to rush things."

"Fine, but we're going to have to discuss the nature of our acquaintanceship at _some_ point if it is to continue."

"Okay, but what is there really to discuss? You like me, I like you, and I left a _date_ with _Finn_ to be here," she chuckled, "In fact, I used the flimsiest excuse ever to walk out of a party, at a time when I really can't afford to arouse any more suspicion, to be here with you. So I think that really says everything _I_ need to say."

"You were at a party earlier?"

Quinn paused mid-chew, tensing as she tried to get a sense of what emotion was coloring Rachel's tone. It was harder than usual, like she was being deliberately careful, and while it was maddening that Rachel had only heard the damning part of her short speech and not the important parts, she didn't seem to be looking for fight about it.

"At Matt's," she explained after she'd swallowed her bite, "I didn't want to go, but Finn really wanted me to, and it was starting early so I thought I should compromise. I had a plan to get out of there by seven-fifteen but then I got into this big thing with Mike and he _ruined_ my plan."

Rachel's eyes were wide again, "A big thing with Mike? Oh no. You didn't throw something at him did you?"

"No, not this time."

"So, you had an argument with him?"

"You _could_ call it that," she said sheepishly, and looking back, she felt silly over how invested she'd been.

"Oh no, Quinn. While I do admit to finding your jealousy enticing at times, please tell me you didn't get into a physical confrontation with him."

"Calm down, Berry! It wasn't like we had a fist fight. I just raced him on Wii Ski."

"What?" Rachel started laughing, "Seriously?"

"The competition did get a little intense and, well… yeah. Incidentally, he knows too."

"Really? You're sure?"

"Yes, I think I made myself pretty clear."

Seriously, if Rachel's eyes kept getting that wide, her eyeballs were going to land on her plate in a minute. "You… what?"

"Let's just leave it at _he knows_ ," Rachel was suddenly grinning like a lunatic and while it wasn't really appropriate for the occasion, Quinn grinned too, "It was stupid; I shouldn't have done it, but…" she shrugged and popped her last forkful into her mouth.

"Wait a minute, you were late for our date because you were playing _video games_?"

Laughing at Rachel's utter indignation, Quinn told her the tale of her exit, of how she'd forgotten to speak to Finn quietly ahead of time, and how everyone else had decided to weigh in on her health when she just wanted to run out the door. In the process, she accidentally let the guest list slip.

"Kurt was there?"

Quinn winced at the sadness in Rachel's voice, but surely it was better to hear this from her than read it on Facebook tomorrow, "Yes, Matt invited everyone."

"Everyone except for me, apparently."

She wanted to say it was all Mike's fault, but one look at Rachel's carefully controlled face made her hold her tongue. Instead, she methodically cleared the space between them, giving Rachel a moment to blink back her tears unscrutinised, before she took both her hands to tug her closer.

Rachel resisted at first, "I'm fine, Quinn. It's not the first time, and I honestly don't hold you responsible, so…"

"I know you're fine, because you're stronger than any of them," Quinn promised, but didn't let up until she had pulled Rachel across the seat and into her arms, and with one last heaved sigh of defiance, Rachel gave up and snuggled in.

Okay, so this was cozy. She squinted down at the head resting on her shoulder and tried not to feel uncomfortable. She'd set out to comfort Rachel and it was silly to get weird now just because she was close enough to do what she'd… well, set out to do! It was just that, she'd never been very good at the comforting thing and it was even harder now, when Rachel being this close sent all sorts of wrong messages to her brain. She just had to keep talking, find her way through this with words, "I was angry when I found out you hadn't been invited. I mean, the _one time_ Finn could have used his little crush on you for something that wouldn't piss me off, and he let it slide right by him."

Rachel looked up, "Finn still has a crush on me?"

Guiding Rachel's head back down, she rolled her eyes with a smile, "Hush, not the point of the story. I was angry and I knew you'd be upset, but then I realized it was a blessing."

"How can my hurtful ostracization from our social circle ever be a blessing?"

"Think about it: if you had been invited, there was no way we could both leave without everyone knowing why, even if we'd left an hour apart it still would have been obvious. Our date would have consisted of us standing on opposite sides of the room, not speaking unless it was me being a bitch to you, and that would have been an even lamer first date than this."

"This isn't lame," Rachel said softly, cuddling tighter and then laughed just as softly. "Well, perhaps it is a little."

Quinn frowned, "Hey, I thought you said it was romantic."

"It is! And for a first attempt it's a solid… six."

"Six?" Seriously? She was a better date than a _six_ , "I brought food and everything!"

"Which is why you get the six," Rachel rubbed the arm around her shoulders reassuringly – or perhaps to stop it from tightening into a strangle-hold, "Without it you would have been nudging at the underside of a four."

"That's a three," she said flatly.

"Quinn, what did you expect? We're sitting in the dark in the back of your car! The only way to make that work is choosing the right location, and sadly this is _not_ a drive-in movie theater. The only entertainment we have is the trains passing, and we're not even facing the right way for those."

"I thought we'd find ways to entertain each other," Quinn winced at the double-entendre.

Thankfully, Rachel was too caught up in her rant now to notice any verbal slips on Quinn's part, "And you're wearing your uniform! Please don't misunderstand, I find it very alluring – sexy even – but it's hardly suitable attire for a date! Perhaps I went overboard with my outfit but it's only fair to agree that you went wholly _under_ board with yours."

"I thought you liked my uniform."

"I've just said that I do appreciate some of its qualities, but above all else it is a symbol of status and, quite frankly, the status it symbolizes is something I'm really not in love with. Isn't it enough that I have to cope with having feelings for the head cheerleader in public? In private I had hoped you would just be Quinn."

She was just Quinn! She plucked at the front of her skirt, it was only material, "Don't go easy on me, will you," she muttered petulantly.

"All I _do_ is go easy on you and look where it gets me!" Rachel waved her hands around in the darkness and burst out laughing.

"Well, it's not like I can take you to Breadstix."

"You could, you just won't," Rachel corrected her, "but it's not the secluded nature of the date that's in question; I'm not opposed to us being _here._ I'm just pointing out that with a few personal touches you could have made it more special."

She didn't know what to say to that. She couldn't argue that she'd spent hours planning this because she hadn't. Even picking up take-out had been somewhat of an afterthought, because she had only had two slices of pizza for dinner.

"I suppose I just expected more from a date with the most popular girl in school. This really is nice though," Rachel hurried to add, catching at Quinn's wrist when she tried to pull her arm free.

Quinn left her arm limply around her shoulders, but their position was distinctly less cozy than it had been, "So, you want the perks of being with the most popular girl in school but without the reality of it."

"Yes. In a nutshell."

A nutshell? Rachel should be in a nutshell, a _padded_ one. You couldn't take the Cheerios out of the Cheerios captain; that team was what had made her great, "Are you serious? Do you think I achieved popularity with my _sweet and sunny_ disposition and dedication to getting good grades?" Rachel looked like she was thinking about it and Quinn quickly decided she didn't actually want to have her popularity dissected under Rachel Berry's high-intensity microscope, "Fine, I won't wear it again on dates. You're very hard work sometimes, Berry, did you know that?"

"It has been said. I happen to think I'm worth the extra effort though."

"You would," Quinn shook head with a wry grin and resisted the compulsion to agree with her. Rachel's ego was large enough as it was, "I _am_ sorry this is such a crappy date. I didn't put enough thought into it. Only, you didn't seem to mind it here so much last night."

"Last night it made sense for you to bring me to an out-dated make-out spot, tonight it's just…"

"Go on, you can say it: tacky."

Rachel didn't say it, she just pressed into her side with a giggle

* * *

Another train rushed by with a clatter of wheels, making her stiffen up at the sudden interruption. If they were going to keep coming here, she was going to have to study a timetable so that she was ready for them and didn't nearly have a heart attack every time. Quinn's arms tightened around her for a moment, keeping her safe from the big, bad train and bringing a smile to Rachel lips. Then the warm pad of Quinn's thumb was rubbing soothingly back and forth across her collarbone.

This was the first time that she could remember Quinn holding her like this. Normally it was the other way around, with Quinn's nose resting delicately – or not – against her neck. This was different though, and nothing to do with morning sickness, which made a nice change. Quinn's head was resting on the back of the seat but turned towards her enough that her even breaths tickled strands of Rachel's hair.

Rachel closed her eyes as the train's echo died away and a sense of peace filled the car, only disturbed by their breathing; which wasn't really a disturbance at all – they even breathed beautifully together! She thought about pointing that out but didn't want to break the moment. Instead, she inhaled deeply, allowing Quinn's hair to override the mingled lingering scents of pine air-freshener, left-over Chinese food, and the smoky diesel smell from outside, before sighing it back, completely at ease with life as she knew it.

She was also feeling sleepy, as she often did after eating Chinese food, and she blinked her eyes open before she accidentally dozed off. The white in Quinn's uniform was the only thing to stand out, almost glowing in the muted shadows of the dark car. The streetlight they'd parked under to give them _some_ light while they were eating highlighted Rachel's hand as it moved in slow, delicate strokes over Quinn's stomach. Her fingertips brushed over the hem of Quinn's Cheerios top, flicking it back and pulling it down again, before slipping beneath to feel the soft, toned skin.

It was a bold move but a happy sigh dropped from Quinn's lips as she pushed lightly into the contact and Rachel considered that to be a good sign. She watched her hidden hand move, liking the way the cool fabric moved and settled over her knuckles in contrast to Quinn's warmth beneath her palm.

And all the while Quinn's fingers stroked her skin, raising goose bumps in their path and eliciting delicious little shivers inside her. Quinn's hands were as warm as her stomach, making her touch all the more pleasant now that the car had grown cold with the early fall evening air seeping in to replace the previous heat caused by the engine and the steaming food.

Rachel hadn't wanted to ruin the overall look of her outfit with a cardigan or jacket that didn't match so she had left the house without either. Which she'd realized while waiting for Quinn to arrive had been a foolish decision, but now it didn't really matter that her arms and shoulders and everywhere below her knees were bare or that the bottom of her dress was a little damp. Quinn was providing enough heat; in fact Rachel was surprised she wasn't steaming as much as the food had been.

"This feels so nice and relaxing I could fall asleep," she said, breaking what had been nearly ten minutes of silence.

Quinn's fingers paused for a moment before resuming their graceful stroking, and Rachel could hear the chuckle in her voice as she asked, "Really, you don't want to do _anything_ else?"

Rachel sat up a little to stretch, trying to wake herself up but it was too much hard work and she instantly missed being pressed against Quinn's side. She fell gently back to where she had been, squeezing Quinn's waist once in contented bliss before carrying on drawing random patterns across her stomach.

"What else is there to do?"

Quinn took a few seconds to answer, proving that she couldn't think of anything either, "I don't know, but we're on a date, Rachel. And I'm pretty sure that traditionally if your _date_ falls asleep it should be counted as a bad one."

"I don't believe in conforming to tradition. We should make our own date rules."

The fingers grazing her collarbone pushed palm-flat for a moment as Quinn shifted beside her to whisper in her ear, "Okay, let's do that. I think the first rule should be: no falling asleep on dates."

"Fine, I won't fall asleep," the fact that Quinn's fingertips were now travelling marginally south of her collarbone was certainly going to help with that. Should Rachel tell her? No, there was no point saying something that might embarrass her – or make her stop! – for something so innocent, "But what can we do? Your car does offer limited activity options."

There was another pause; Quinn was probably feeling bad again, "I suppose it does… a little."

"I'm still thoroughly enjoying myself," she said, hoping to put her back at ease.

Quinn leaned down to whisper in her ear, her left hand accidentally drifting lower until her hot fingertips were skating just above her low neckline, "You are?"

Rachel's mouth went dry as her mind went blank, leaving her body free to react inappropriately to the accidental stimulation, and she watched through wide eyes as her hand slid possessively under Quinn's tight Cheerios top, then up and around to pull her closer.

"Damn, Rachel!" The breathy reprimand made her feel guilty.

The fact that it caused a definite spike in her arousal made her feel even guiltier, but not in a way that made her want to say sorry. She liked the new position she'd created, which had somehow tangled her in Quinn's strong arms even more and pushed that innocently wandering hand to what seemed to be an especially sensitive area just above her modest cleavage!

Actually, if she'd been with anyone else, she wouldn't have thought that hand so innocent anymore, but she knew she could trust Quinn to keep things wholesome and the least she could do was attempt the same.

"So, what did you want to do? Do you have any cards? I'm an excellent card player. I've never lost a game of Go Fish to my dads," she rambled.

"I don't keep a deck of cards in my car."

"O-okay, we could put the radio on?"

"I don't want to drain the battery."

No, Rachel didn't want that either. It was positively cozy inside the car now, but she didn't want to spend the night out here… with the trains.

"That's unfortunate. I suppose we could play I-Spy; it's not very sophisticated bu–…"

Quinn's fingers slid down her dress and Rachel lost all coherent thought.

* * *

' _Shit, what did I just do!'_

She'd pushed her hand down the front of Rachel's dress, that's what she'd done.

It was dead center, so she was barely actually _touching_ anything worth this panic attack, but it was still _down there_ and – as there was probably no way of passing this off as an accident and retreating gracefully – Quinn was going to go ahead and panic.

She hadn't meant to do it, but she'd been losing her mind a little. She'd been kind of turned on ever since she'd seen Rachel in this dress, and when their cuddling began to include gentle fingers tracing and exploring bare skin the kind of part had dropped away and it had been all Quinn could do not to grab Rachel by the face and kiss her senseless.

Ever-mindful of how quickly she had run out of control the night before, she restrained the impulse every time it rose up with an efficiency she felt proud of… right up until Rachel's clueless-ness broke every last strand of her patience. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry; it had all been going so well and now here she was with her hand down the front of Rachel's dress and Rachel sounded like she hyperventilating.

And, she realized, it was even worse than she'd thought.

"You're not wearing a bra!"

"I don't own any that are strapless and my training bras would have looked silly with this dress."

She hadn't meant to sound accusing, she was just shocked, and, great, now Rachel was freaking out even more.

She just couldn't help herself though, "Training bra, Rachel, seriously?"

"Quinn, your hand is currently down the front of my dress, so please could you not revert to your default state of discomfort _right_ now!"

"Sorry, sorry!" At least it gave her an excuse to withdraw her hand and use the attached arm to hug Rachel in apology instead, "I just freaked out for a second."

" _You_ freaked out for a second?!"

"I'm _still_ freaking out!"

"So am I!"

They shared a moment of heavy breathing and darting, anxious eyes.

"Okay, this is okay. We'll just delete it. Forget that it ever happened."

Rachel nodded and then abruptly switched to shaking her head, "It was unexpected and possibly a great deal too soon, but I don't want to forget it. It felt nice."

"It did?"

"Yes, and it's not like you inappropriately groped me or anything."

"No, I just inappropriately stuck my hand between your breasts!"

Rachel laughed, which made her feel a little better, "Maybe it would have been more okay if you'd started at the beginning."

They were face-to-face now, all of the activity understandably causing Rachel to stop resting against her shoulder.

"What's the beginning?" she asked and then had a _duh_ moment as Rachel leaned in to kiss her.

She met it eagerly, perhaps too eagerly, seeing as Rachel seemed to be going for chaste – but seriously? Chaste right now? Rachel's lips soon caught up and then they were kissing properly. Quinn used the hand on the back of her neck to hold her close and Rachel's fingers trickled down from under her top to lay against her hip while her other arm curled around Quinn's back. That gave Quinn just one hand left to move – it was starting to feel like a game of twister – and she knew exactly where she wanted to move it to: Right hand, breast.

She stayed above the dress this time though.

Rachel moaned into her mouth and it was the most awesome feeling ever.

When they had to take a second to bring oxygen on board – initiated by Rachel who was practically panting from what Quinn was doing to her breast, something that would make Quinn grin like an idiot when she had time to think back on it – Quinn's lips trailed over her jaw and down the slender column of her neck. Good God, she loved this dress. The spaghetti straps offered so much more bare skin compared to the sweaters and shirts that she was used to seeing Rachel in, which made her get a little carried away again, offering the base of Rachel's throat so much love with her lips that Rachel soon had a fistful of her hair.

Her lips charted the new terrain until they were pecking along Rachel's collar bone. Quinn knew she was going too fast; she was still getting used to being okay with kissing Rachel's lips and now she was kissing her chest! But, damn, the smooth skin felt too good to let her think straight.

"Quinn!" Rachel's voice trembled.

"If this is too much, I can stop," she mumbled, "At least, I think I can stop."

"No, I don't want you to stop, it's just…"

"What?"

Rachel's answer was to move her hand up significantly higher, until she was timidly touching the black stripe at the base of the WMHS logo on her chest.

Quinn smiled in understanding, nodding slightly, "Sure." And then she surprised the both of them by adding, "You don't have to ask."

"I don't?" Rachel's shock was unmistakable and Quinn had to chuckle.

"Here, now, in this car, at this moment… you don't have to ask."

"Oh," Rachel swallowed hard, "Um…"

"Over the bra, naturally," she added helpfully, because kissing Rachel was really freeing but that didn't mean she had to come across as a total slut. She read the thought about to come out of Rachel's mouth easily, "I didn't know you weren't wearing a bra, did I?"

Giggling, Rachel kissed her, and Quinn felt that _feeling_ swell again. Doubly so as Rachel's hands began moving over her top and what she lacked in experience she made up for in zeal. It felt amazing. _Almost_ too amazing and she had to force her own hand down to the safe zone of Rachel's waist before she could embarrass herself again.

Rachel whimpered into her mouth, pouting against her lips.

"Wear appropriate underwear next time then," she muttered, forehead resting against Rachel's as she took a second to breathe.

"Or you could just… pretend I am now."

"Don't!" It was a plea, not a reprimand.

"Sorry. I didn't mean that."

"Really?"

"Honestly. It's just that your hands are so hot and my boobs are feeling pretty chilly and…"

Quinn laughter cut her off, "That sounds like a guy's version of _honestly_ to me."

Rachel smiled wickedly as she leaned into kiss her again, just as her fingernail scraped over the capital 'W' of her logo, and over her nipple beneath. She groaned, far too wantonly, and dragged her hand down Rachel's side and over her hip before it could break free from her strict control and plunge down the front of Rachel's dress again.

Because there were lines she couldn't – _shouldn't_ – cross, even with Rachel's consent.

Figuring out she'd done something good, Rachel did it again and again and Quinn's hand moved restlessly over Rachel's hip, up and down, accidentally snagging in her dress. In the back of her mind, she thought about wrinkles and smoothed it out again. Rachel mewled into her mouth, one hand sliding up to cup her cheek, pulling their lips harder together.

What had she done to bring out that reaction? When had she started stroking Rachel's thigh? She had a feeling the two answers were connected somehow.

She liked the reaction though – really liked it – so she didn't stop.

Tongues would be good. Tongues would be really good right now; she was going to go for it.

"Your hand is about to get dirty."

Quinn froze. Wow, if that hadn't sounded exactly like Rachel she would have thought it was Jesus talking.

"I… I…"

"The hem of my dress is still muddy, from crawling through the bushes, I just thought I should warn you," Rachel breathed out before capturing her lips again.

Oh. That was all. She mentally breathed a sigh of relief that Rachel wasn't channelling the Son of God. Now she came to notice it the hem of the dress was gritty under her palm, and damp. Wait, when had her hand drifted down that low? Apparently there were some lines she _was_ willing to cross, like a hem-line for example.

Her fingers moved from grainy dampness to warm, smooth thigh and back again – _quickly_ – because that had scared her a little. Then she had to say something to lighten the tension rolling low in her stomach.

"You know, if I was channeling _my_ inner guy I'd feed you a line like: We should get you out of these wet clothes before you catch a chill."

Rachel gave a husky chuckle and Quinn smiled before pressing their lips back together, fingertips still flirting with the hem, going from dress to skin and back again, over and over. She was probably painting Rachel in muddy fingerprints but she didn't care; the contrast in textures – wet, rough, hot, smooth – was too pleasurable to resist. So were the little shivers running through Rachel every time her mud-dampened fingertips grazed her thigh.

Intoxicating.

"The zipper is on the left."

The dual sensation of desire heatedly pooling into her groin and a panic as effective as a physical slap in the face made her freeze again, possibly forever this time.

Her lips felt too numb to speak, but she managed, "What?"

"On my dress, it's under my left arm."

Rachel didn't even seem to notice she was suddenly kissing the equivalent of some pretty waxwork.

* * *

" _Where the hell is the zipper on this thing, anyway?"_

" _What?"_

" _How do I get you out of this damn dress?"_

" _Puck! You're not taking off my dress!"_

" _Fine," it might have sounded sullen if she couldn't see the grin on his lips, "I can work around it."_

" _No, Puck!" She pushed his hands away from her homecoming dress. Perching the way she was on a desk was no easy task, and she almost fell._

 _His hands steadied her, "What do you mean, no? Then why the hell else did you drag me in here?"_

" _I just… look, just shut up and kiss me, okay?" He complied, but it was only a minute or two before she felt her dress being raised again and she pulled back, "Stop doing that!"_

" _Q!" he burst out in frustration, before calmly trying to reason with her, "Babe, I don't mind you using me to convince yourself you're not into Berry, but you gotta give me a little…"_

" _That's not what I'm doing!"_

 _Except it was, sort of, at least. Everyone had watched Finn walk away from her, it had been mortifying and terrifying, and how she hadn't gone to pieces right there on the dancefloor, she'd never know._

" _Then if you're really into this, why won't you at least let me get my hand up there?"_

" _Because… you're a jackass!"_

" _Whatever. Face it, Fabray, you're as into chicks as I am. No other reason why you wouldn't wanna tap the Puckasauras again."_

" _I am not!"_

 _He laughed_ _at her! "Prove it."_

 _She wanted to slap him. Instead, she pulled him by the back of his neck back to her lips and when his hands began their inevitable journey again she didn't slap them away._

* * *

She had, eventually, but not before they'd been trying to tug her underwear down. That was when she'd slapped him, which he'd taken surprisingly well. Although he hadn't said more than a couple of words to her while he was walking her out to the parking lot and driving her home; she'd been too drunk to drive herself. He hadn't even commented on her crying, had only rifled through her small handbag for her keys – which she had yelled at him for and he'd taken no notice of – before walking her to the front door and offering a quiet _goodnight_.

When she'd woken up that morning, wondering how she was going to manage walking to school for her car when she couldn't even leave the bathroom for more than five minutes, her father had come upstairs to scold her for leaving her car unlocked and with the keys in the ignition all night.

She'd apologized profusely for her carelessness, citing the lateness of the hour – her curfew had been extended for the dance to midnight – having so many bags to bring into the house that she hadn't had a hand free for her key, and that she was sorry but she must have forgotten she'd left them.

It was flimsy at best, but her dad just shook his head, giving her a pained why-did-I-have-daughters smile before telling her to make sure it never happened again.

She'd promised, and wasn't sure whether to be mad at Puck for bringing the car back or not. If her dad had found out she'd left it at school he'd obviously want to know why. In the end, she reverted to her usual status quo these days with Puck and decided that being mad at him was totally justified.

Right now, though, she just felt like shit. Shame ate at her until she had to pull away from Rachel's kisses entirely, "Stop it!"

"What's wrong?"

"What do you think is wrong?" she demanded, knowing she was just going to make herself feel worse in the long run, but needing to lash out, to release her anger before it turned into more pathetic tears.

Rachel was panting lightly, studying her face, and then her eyes were the size of saucers. "Ohhh! The dress! Quinn, I didn't… it's just that, well, I like you and I got carried away but I never really meant… or at least I never expected… and it's not like I ever wanted my first time to be in the backseat of a car… Quinn, please say something!"

What could she say? That she'd _cheated_ on her last night? Worse, she'd used Puck to try and block out the fact that she _wanted_ to do things like take off Rachel's dress? That she was currently feeling angry and guilty and ashamed and that having Rachel's hands on her wasn't helping? That it was just multiplying all of those feelings because it made her _want_ it more? And she couldn't, she just couldn't.

"How can you think I'd even want to do that with you," she growled, "Let alone yet?"

"I can't say I was really thinking at all. It's just that you seemed like you might be feeling the same."

"I wasn't."

She had been, until she'd tripped on memory lane and it had come up to smack her in the face.

The look of apology in Rachel's eyes was suddenly replaced by irate disbelief, "You were!"

"I wasn't," she repeated roughly, "I was enjoying kissing you, but you just had to go and push it."

"You pushed it first!"

"I apologized for that!" Which didn't really refute Rachel's argument, but Quinn didn't care.

She slid toward the door and pulled on the lever.

Rachel caught her other arm, "If you need to pray, Quinn, do it in here. It's not safe out there."

"I'm not going to pray, you idiot!" Although she would later – a lot. She was anticipating a full night of murmuring quietly to her Savior, in fact, "I'm getting in the front."

"Why?"

"Because our date is definitely over."

She pulled her arm free and hopped out of the car before Rachel could make another attempt to stop her. By the time she'd moved the plates and food cartons from front to back, Rachel had scrambled through the gap and was in the passenger seat, glaring at her. She looked more forlorn than angry though, which Quinn refused to acknowledge as she took her seat behind the wheel and wasted no time in starting the engine.

They were halfway across Lima before Rachel broke the silence.

"Are you really mad at me?"

No.

"Yes. You crossed a line, Rachel. I told you last night I wasn't ready for… that."

"Neither am I! I just got caught up in the moment!"

"Yes, well you shouldn't have."

This really wasn't making her feel any better. She didn't want to end their date with an argument; she didn't want to end it _at all_ – it wasn't even nine yet! But at the same time, it _was_ making her feel better, because _she_ kept getting carried away too. _She_ kept getting caught up in the moment. If Rachel's suggestion hadn't triggered that awful memory from last night, would they be driving down Upper Fourth Street yelling at each other right now? Or would they still be in the freight yards, with Rachel's dress picking up lint from the floor of the car?

So, this was good. They needed to set clear boundaries about what was and wasn't acceptable physically, and if they had to do it via an argument instead of when they were getting along, then so be it.

"You're being very unreasonable about this, Quinn."

"And you're behaving like a horny boy, Rachel. And if that's what I wanted I'd be with _a boy._ "

"Well, maybe you should be. Considering the idea of being with me apparently turns your stomach."

"I never said that!"

The thought of being with Puck last night was what really turned her stomach and, _God,_ how she wished that wasn't true. Especially in this minute.

"You're doing an exceptionally good job of implying it, though."

"Oh, just… shut up!"

Rachel did, crossing her arms and staring out of the passenger window for the duration of the journey. Quinn knew she had to be really pissed because she didn't even put the radio on.

Pulling on to Rachel's cul-de-sac, she gruffly asked, "Are your parents home?"

"Yes, so don't think I'm inviting you in. I am much too annoyed with you right now to be able to act nice in front of them, so don't even think it."

"I wouldn't come in even if you did invite me," she rolled her eyes because now she sounded like a ten year old! She was being ridiculous. Rachel made her _feel_ ridiculous.

Actually, Rachel made her feel everything. She hit the full spectrum of emotions from good to bad. It was maddening, but… well, that was the point: it was everything.

Instead of swinging into the Berry driveway like usual, she pulled up to the curb and cut the lights and engine, not wanting LeRoy coming out to say hello while they were bitching at each other like this. Their so-called friendship was still so new, that the Berry's would probably take it the wrong way and assume that Quinn was bullying their precious daughter or something instead of it being totally mutual. She didn't need that obstacle on top of the dozens they already had.

God, all she seemed to do these days was damage control! Hadn't life been fun once? Yeah, about twenty minutes ago, before she'd started yelling at Rachel.

So… maybe she should stop. At least for tonight.

She turned in her seat toward her, trying to think of something to say that would alleviate the animosity between them, so that they could end their first date on a marginally better note than this one.

Rachel had other ideas, "Goodnight, Quinn. Thank you for dinner." Her hand was already on the door handle.

"Wait!"

Rachel didn't.

Cursing under her breath, Quinn threw open the driver's door and ran out after her. The street was quiet but she took a quick look around for late-night dog walkers or any curtains twitching as she caught up with Rachel.

"I said wait."

Rachel marched on, eyes front, even though Quinn was right beside her now. She grabbed her hand and dug her heels in, literally, to force the girl to stop.

"I said, _wait_."

Rachel looked down at their hands, then at Quinn, and then back to her front door, "It's cold out here, Quinn, and so if you don't mind I'd like to get inside."

"That's fine. Just let me walk you."

"I'm quite capable of walking myself."

Quinn smiled, a chuckle escaping as she remembered the last time she'd walked Rachel to the front door. When she had very much not been able to walk herself.

Showing amusement was clearly a bad move, because Rachel scowled at her and tried to pull her hand away. Quinn didn't let her, and instead started for the porch, taking her time while also keeping a close eye on the front windows to make sure one of Rachel's dads didn't suddenly appear.

Rachel, with several huffs to let her know she was still displeased, consented to walk at her pace, hand in hand. She could feel the girl's shivers through the connection and felt a little guilty for not letting her rush straight into the warm house; but if she did, their first date would always count as a bad memory and Quinn had enough of those already. She thought about asking Rachel to wait while she ran back to the car for her Cheerios jacket, but she suspected the romantic gesture of sliding it around Rachel's shoulders would be wasted because Rachel _wouldn't_ wait and Quinn would be left standing in the driveway, jacket in hand, looking like an idiot.

She walked a little faster to make up for it.

"Are you that eager to get rid of me?"

Quinn glared but turned it away from Rachel.

The porch wasn't deep but it was enough so that anyone standing on the step couldn't be seen from the windows. Rachel tried to pull her hand away again, and this time Quinn allowed it, standing awkwardly beside her while she wondered what to do next. She'd assumed they'd talk on the short walk from car to front door, but Rachel had been bristling with such enmity that she hadn't been able to find the words that would make things better.

That left only one thing to do.

"I appreciate you're professionalism as to the end of our date, Quinn," Rachel said as she searched for her keys in her little clutch purse, "But now I'm safely on the doorstep you can…"

"Oh, just _shut_ _up_!"

She pushed Rachel back against the door with one hand, using her other to cover the peephole – because you could never be too careful – and then covered Rachel's lips with her own.

Rachel automatically kissed back for a moment before she remembered she was mad and pushed at her shoulders. Quinn let herself be pushed back but not too far.

"What are you doing?" Rachel whispered sharply.

"What does it look like I'm doing, moron? I'm kissing you goodnight," she whispered back just as sharply.

"Oh."

The surprise in that small syllable was all the incentive Quinn needed and she kissed her again, pulling back just as Rachel started to return it.

"You wanted me to, right?"

Dark eyes met hers seriously, filled with uncertainty, and then – as gingerly as if there were live explosives inside her head – she nodded.

Good.

Her lips tasted like spicy peanut sauce and Quinn's own raspberry lip-gloss – it was surprisingly moreish. Or… not surprisingly, since she already knew Rachel's lips were her new favorite flavor no matter how they tasted. And she wasn't complaining or anything, but she'd actually meant for this to be a short, sweet kiss – fitting for the doorstep at the end of a first date – and this was rapidly turning into _not_ that. Rachel's hands were sliding up her neck and into her hair, holding her close and causing her head to tingle deliciously all in one go.

It came back to her, and yes the timing was completely inappropriate, how much she loved pinning Rachel to things. And this was the first time she'd been able to kiss her at the same time, at least for more than a few seconds. She pressed Rachel into the door with the length of her body and ran a hand slowly, teasingly up her side…

Rachel pulled back, breathless but stern, "Don't even think I'm going to let you touch my breast right now, Quinn Fabray!"

"I wasn't! And could you shush?"

From the closed window to their left came the muted sounds of a talk show on the TV and from somewhere deeper in the house was a soft but persistent rumble – the washing machine or dishwasher maybe – but Rachel's clear voice tended to carry, especially when she forgot she was supposed to be whispering.

Rachel made no show of looking sorry. Sighing, Quinn dropped her hand back to Rachel's waist and tried to kiss her again.

Rachel avoided it, "You've kissed me goodnight. Now I think you should leave."

Quinn kissed her jaw, then the side of her neck and felt Rachel quiver, "You don't mean that."

"We're on my doorstep, Quinn! And you're still not coming in," her breath hitched, "No matter how lovely that feels." Her head tilted to the side as she spoke, inviting Quinn to keep kissing down her neck.

"I don't want to come in," she murmured, before lightly sucking the place where neck met chin, "I'm tired already and you're exhausting to be around, Berry."

"I resent that insult!"

"Then take it as a compliment instead," which was at least half how she'd meant it anyway. Rachel pushed her away forcefully enough that Quinn had to take notice, "What's wrong?"

"I don't know. Us, maybe."

God, if even _Rachel_ thought this was wrong, then maybe it was. And maybe she needed to start listening to all those other voices instead of striving so hard to hear that lonely one telling her it was okay to like Rachel.

But then Rachel looked down, tilting her head in a way that would usually hide her face behind her hair but she'd worn it up tonight, leaving her no way to hide the single silent tear sliding down her cheek. And just like that, that one little voice was louder than ever; in fact it was singing. It was singing Celine-freaking-Dion.

"Hey, come here. We're not wrong, we're just… challenging," she whispered, free hand sliding behind Rachel's neck as she tried to guide those downturned lips back to hers.

Tried and failed. Rachel made small, jerky movements with her head up, down, left and right to avoid her. Sighing after half a dozen missed attempts, Quinn stopped aiming for the bullseye and settled for placing kisses on those areas Rachel presented to her – chin, cheek, the bridge of her nose, her other cheek, end her nose, eyeball – yuck. That last one was a mistake, but it made Rachel giggle and look up at her and… aha! Lips.

Lips that tried to wriggle away but Quinn had a firm grip on them with her own. She wasn't letting them get away this time!

She knew she'd won this round when Rachel parted her lips willingly, whimpering into her mouth and then there was a sharp sting as strong teeth nipped her vulnerable flesh.

Quinn pulled away and calmly stated, "Ow."

"Serves you right." Rachel told her smugly. "At least I know how to take no for an answer."

"I _can_ take no for an answer. I just don't get why you're saying no. Why are you? Is that it? We have one little argument…" Rachel scoffed, crossing her arms again. Quinn looked down at their feet because it was better than looking into Rachel's merciless eyes, "Just tell me what this means; are you through kissing me for good?" It was hard to keep cold indifference in her voice when her lower lip was trying to tremble. Rachel didn't answer, which was as good as a yes, really, "Fine. I'll get out of your way. Sorry I screwed things up." Still nothing. She pushed off of the door and turned to leave before she said something she regretted, "Bye."

Rachel's purse hit the porch tiles with a jangle as small hands clutched the back of her top. Quinn turned and nearly smacked them away as they prevented her escape, "What is it now?" her voice sounded violent all on its own anyway.

"Can I see you tomorrow?"

She sneered at the anxious plea, "Why would you want to?"

"I don't know, I just want to."

That was not a good answer, especially when Quinn could think of a dozen reasons off the top of her head for why she wanted to see Rachel tomorrow. And _I just want to_ wasn't even at the top of the list, although it was on there, obviously.

"No, you can't. I have church in the morning, and then I'm going out with Finn for the afternoon, and Sunday evenings are family-time."

"Can't you skip it?"

"Which one?" she asked impatiently.

"Well, any of them, but I was mostly thinking family-time because while I would prefer for you to be with me instead of Finn, I agree with you that neglecting him is unfair. He deserves better than that."

"Thank you for your completely unsolicited advice on my relationship. And no, I can't skip family-time, not just to hang out with you."

Rachel was pouting and looked near tears again. Quinn rolled her eyes, she hadn't actually meant for that to come out as bitchy. It was true, it had to be a very special occasion or a school or church sanctioned event for her to be allowed out of the house after six-thirty on a Sunday.

"Well, if that's how you feel…"

"Rachel!" she sighed, "I'm going to see you Monday."

"Yes, when I won't be allowed to speak to you or look at you or… or kiss you."

"How is that relevant? You don't want to kiss me now!"

"Of course I do! I want to kiss you so much; _too_ much."

"You can't kiss me too much."

"Really? Your earlier outburst would beg to differ."

That's what this was about? Rachel was scared of getting yelled at again? Considering the volume and content of said yelling it was understandable, but that didn't make it any less stupid.

"That wasn't about kissing," she reminded her, failing to add that it hadn't really been about any of the accusations she'd flung at the girl either.

"Yes, but kissing you always leads – extremely quickly may I say – to me wanting more."

Quinn grinned, she couldn't help it. Rachel so readily admitting that she affected her so much was… she was going to go with awesome, because the actual word was a little too trigger-y right now, and if she started yelling again, she wouldn't be surprised if Rachel didn't just outright punch her in the face.

"So, let's make it simple with some ground rules."

Rachel groaned, imploring the roof of the porch, "More rules?"

"Don't be a faker, Rachel, you know you love rules. Especially my rules," smirking, she stepped closer until Rachel was back against the door and looking up at her.

"That's false information. I detest your rules and find them both degrading and unnecessary. What I do, in fact, love is _breaking_ your rules."

The sultry tone was okay, but the mischievous look felt less like an observation of fact and more like a portent of coming danger.

"I don't know what you're about to suggest, but no."

Rachel pouted again but it was playful this time, "Fine, tell me your new ground rules and I'll tell you if I'm amenable to them."

"Okay. First, we both have to lighten up a little. I overreacted earlier because you freaked me out–" It was truth by omission, if that was a thing, "–and I need to try to stop freaking out over being with you," Rachel nodded in agreement, but she hadn't finished, " _You_ need to stop trying to push us. I don't mean physically, I'll get to that in a minute, but with everything else. We are what we are right now, and…"

"Which is?" Rachel pushed.

She let her have that one, "Casual. Maybe we'll be more at some point, but you trying to rush things isn't going to make it come any sooner. Let's get used to this first."

Truthfully, they were already beyond casual – Quinn hadn't even left yet and she already couldn't wait to see Rachel again Monday morning – but if Rachel needed a label, that was the only one she felt comfortable giving.

"Okay, we both have areas we need to work on," Rachel said through chattering teeth.

"You're freezing!"

"Yes, I am a little. Next ground rule please?"

"Freakshow," she said affectionately, with a roll of her eyes, as she pulled Rachel into her arms. The other girl stiffened warily and she chuckled, "Hey, I'm not getting fresh, just warming you up."

"Oh. Thank you. You are still exceptionally warm for someone with the reputation of a cold-blooded snake."

She laughed softly, "Maybe it's a baby thing. Or, I don't know, but I don't feel cold when I'm with you."

Rachel smiled up at her and Quinn didn't even realize she was drifting down to feel it until Rachel cleared her throat and said, "Ground rule number two?"

"Oh, right. Hands stay above the waist at all times."

"Need I remind you that it was your hand that broke that rule earlier?"

"No, you needn't, and it contributed largely towards ruining our date, which is why I think it is important to abide by it in future."

There was some slight hesitation before Rachel nodded, "I find that acceptable but I request a follow up question."

"This isn't a trial."

"Is there a time period on rule two?"

"Meaning?"

"Is it a rule we can revisit in… say a week, to see if perhaps we are both feeling differently by then?"

Quinn spluttered out a laugh, "In a week? No! Bring it back to the table in six months and we'll talk."

It was Rachel's turn to splutter-laugh, "Six months? Seriously? You want to wait six months before we even discuss taking our rel… _casual_ dating farther?"

She frowned; six months seemed reasonable. She'd been dating Finn for six months now and he'd never gotten beyond her bra – let alone further south – and she didn't envisage that happening for some time to come either. If ever, at this point. On the other hand – hand being the literal word – she'd been very interested in the skin just beneath Rachel's dress earlier…

Which was why they needed the ground rules in the first place! Six months suddenly seemed like a really long time, though. She was about to compromise with three, but Rachel's shining eyes caught her attention.

"What?" she whispered, wondering what the big spontaneous smile was for.

"You still think we'll be together in six months?"

"I, uh, um," _that_ completely threw her, but she couldn't exactly tell Rachel _no,_ nor did she feel like she wanted to.

That seemed to be enough for Rachel and she pushed up onto her tiptoes to kiss her. Kiss her so well that Quinn's toes curled and her fingernails dug into Rachel's back though her dress. Rachel hissed and kissed her harder; Quinn lost every thought in her head that wasn't _Yessss_!

She pushed her back against the door again, because damn it just felt so good to kiss her when she was pressed all against her like this. The _only_ way it could feel better was if she was pushing her into a mattress instead of a door. But that was a thought for another day, six months from now. Or maybe three. Or maybe…

She had just enough brainpower left that wasn't being completely drowned by the feel of Rachel's lips to realize that her hand wasn't on the door anymore, but locked around Rachel's waist. Reluctantly, she pulled it up to cover the peephole again with her palm.

Rachel whimpered about it, thankfully without breaking the glorious bond their lips were enjoying, and Quinn shrugged to convey _better safe than sorry._ It probably lost something in translation but neither of them cared enough to interpret it, anyway.

This was what every kiss should be like, and actually _was_ like when Rachel was the one she was kissing. It made six months seem easy; it made forever seem easy. It made _waiting_ six months seem less easy. Ground rules, she tried to think, but it was meaningless in her head right now, like when you said a word too many times and it lost all connotation. Other words that were rapidly going the same way were "abstinence," "self-control," and "common sense."

"Six weeks."

Quinn didn't have to ask, "Three months," she mumbled back.

"Two months."

"Ten weeks."

Kissing. Kissing. Kissing.

"Nine."

"Now!"

The thought of it coupled with Rachel's demanding growl made her skin blaze all over so God knows how she managed to chuckle against Rachel's lips, "Easy, tiger!"

"Sorry, forget I said that," Rachel murmured before re-catching her lips.

Quinn indulged her for a few seconds – okay, maybe a minute – before dragging her lips to the side so she could speak, "I'm not forgetting. I'm going to hold you to it in nine weeks."

More kissing, how did kissing never feel this good before?

"I should probably warn you, that even though I know it's breaking the rules, if you keep kissing me like this I'm going to try and talk you down even further."

"I'm open to that debate," she breathed against Rachel's lips as the previously sturdy door suddenly gave under her palm, and the next thing Quinn knew, she was falling sideways with no way of stopping herself.

She was vaguely aware of Rachel trying to catch her, but she was way too slow, and instead strong arms stopped her descent and pulled her back against a broad, muscled chest.

She took a second to catch her breath before looking up into the upside down surprised face of Hiram Berry.

"Good evening, sir," she smiled uncomfortably. "So, would you say my second impression is at least a little better than my first?"

* * *

Thanks for reading :)


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks for the reviews :)

 **Chapter Six:**

 **Know All About Your Reputation.**

Rachel sat back against her pillows, journal open on her lap with the pro/con list resting on top, as she replayed the conversation that had followed her arrival home the night before.

" _Hello, Quinn. Not really, although I do give you a ten on the dismount."_

" _Daddy!" she'd hissed, while Quinn blushed as red as her cheerleading uniform._

" _What? That was a compliment," he said as he boosted Quinn upright, making sure she was steady on her feet before withdrawing his arms, "So, I thought you said you were going out with a friend from your singing class?"_

" _She did!" Quinn blurted out before Rachel could say anything, "But I was there with some friends too, and it just made sense for me to bring Rachel home. I live closer to here than, uh..."_

" _Rebekah," she supplied, hoping it came off as impatient, like she'd already told Quinn more than once._

" _Yeah, Rebekah. I was going this way and she wasn't."_

" _But Rebekah lives on the next street."_

" _Yes, but she was going back to her b–" Rachel shook her head a little and subtly pointed at herself. It was no Morse code and there was no guarantee Quinn would even get the gesture. "Girlfriend's place."_

 _She had!_

 _They were obviously in sync and destined to spend the rest of their lives together!_

 _She didn't need Quinn to say "Easy, tiger!" again to know she was getting ahead of herself, though; maybe Quinn was just picking up on the first syllable because Rachel was a girl._

… _Or maybe she automatically associated Rachel with the word girlfriend now!_

 _That would be wonderful, but if she was being realistic it was probably the first one – and she'd never know anyway, what with Quinn still being so reluctant to take them seriously._

" _But Rachel doesn't even like Breadstix."_

 _Oh no, her daddy had asked a question and she had been too busy thinking to help Quinn with the answer._

 _The blonde handled it smoothly, however, "I'm not surprised; there aren't really very many good options for vegetarians. I enjoy their spaghetti with tomato and smoked bacon sauce, but then again, I'm perfectly happy with being an omnivore."_

" _Rebekah was in the mood for pasta and Breadstix is very near the LCAC," Rachel supplied, keeping it vague because she was never any good at lying to her parents, especially her daddy._

" _I see. Well, thank you for bringing her home safely, Quinn. Were you coming in? It's a little cold to be standing on the doorstep for as long as you have. Especially without a coat," he chided with a parental glare._

" _I was just… you knew we were out here?"_

" _The security light went on fifteen minutes ago," she saw Quinn wince at her oversight, "And when you didn't come in, your dad turned the sound down so we'd be able to hear if the car alarms went off again. We heard you two gossiping out here instead."_

" _We were not gossiping!" she said indignantly. She didn't gossip; she was only too aware of how hurtful it was when others gossiped about her._

" _No, we weren't gossiping," Quinn said and the hint of a smile on her lips had Rachel concerned about what was coming next. "We were just debating, in the spirit of constructive criticism, the solo performances of our fellow Glee Club members last week and how they may or may not have been influenced by their recent life choices."_

 _Her daddy laughed, "So, fancy gossiping?"_

 _Quinn grinned at him while Rachel rolled her eyes, because Quinn was once again slandering her good name._

" _Well, come inside and do it; I'm turning into an icicle and I've only been standing here two minutes."_

 _She was still shivering but had mostly stopped noticing the cold now. The last five minutes kissing Quinn had certainly warmed her up all over, and now the embarrassment of being nearly caught out by her daddy was doing a fine job of heating her up. Still, she knew he wouldn't go now until she went in – or at least bundled up considerably – and he'd also wonder why they were preferring to stay outside and talk when they could talk in the kitchen or the entertainment room in the basement or her… bedroom._

 _Suddenly, she wasn't so against the idea of inviting Quinn in after all and she looked to her, about to ask._

 _Quinn must have read the question in her eyes; Rachel read the_ No _back just as easily and then she was regretfully shaking her head as she spoke to her daddy._

" _I feel rude turning down two invitations in one day, sir, but I'm afraid I have to get home," she looked at her watch for effect as she added, "I've already stayed talking longer than I should have."_

" _Rachel has that effect on people," her daddy said fondly._

 _Rachel smiled nervously, because in her experience it was usually the exact opposite – she had the effect of making the people she was talking to leave as soon as possible – and Quinn knew that, obviously, because only a short time ago she'd been the one leaving._

 _So she was surprised when Quinn gave her an indulgent smile instead of covering the truth with a carefully blank face, "She does."_

 _Rachel smiled down at her toes… wait, were they turning blue?!_

" _But, I really must go now. It was nice meeting you again, sir."_

 _Rachel was impressed when she held her hand out for a formal handshake; not even Finn had done that when he'd met her fathers that one time. He'd high-fived them instead! Which they'd both found hilarious once he was gone._

 _Her daddy shook Quinn's hand, saying, "You too, Quinn. Drive safely."_

 _Quinn then turned to her and for a second Rachel thought she was about to be hugged goodbye. Quinn even took a tiny step closer, arms shifting by her sides in readiness, but for the first time since the door had opened, Quinn lost her cool, and shuffled her feet uncomfortably as she babbled out, "So, uh, goodnight, Rachel. I mean, goodbye. Um, take care. It was nice seeing you."_

 _Rachel looked down at the hand thrusted out towards her with a frown that tried to turn into a giggle at the absurdity of shaking the hand that had been on her boob just an hour ago._

 _She bit her lip against it – giggling would be inappropriate – and followed Quinn's lead. She wasn't so sure this way of saying goodbye was any more discreet than a hug would have been, because surely her daddy could see how much she didn't want to let go of Quinn's warm hand now that she had it._

 _An extra tight squeeze reminded her that she did in fact have to let go, and so she did, letting her hand fall back to her side as she offered a polite nod, "Goodbye, Quinn. I'll see you Monday."_

Monday, which was still a whole day away.

She still had nineteen hours to go before she could see Quinn again. Or not _see_ her – because she wasn't allowed to _look_ at her… she had to do something about _that_ rule at the very least – but just be in the same general vicinity as her.

She didn't know what time Quinn left church on Sundays; Rachel's family only went to temple on the holy holidays and even that was on Saturdays usually and they never really lingered for long. Temple, while somewhere they were never turned away from, was still somewhere the Berry family had never been made to feel exactly welcome in either. But there was a good chance that she was already out on her date with Finn.

Where might they be? Breadstix? The movies? Putt-Putt Golf? Strolling hand in hand through a park? They could be doing anything, but it probably wasn't sitting in the backseat of Quinn's car, hiding from the small-minded residents of Lima.

That was actually a good thing, really, because there was no way Quinn would let Finn feel her up on a miniature golf course and probably not even in a dark movie theatre but –

It still rankled.

Rachel was glad she didn't know what they were doing, because there had been this fantasy brewing in her head all morning. One where she _accidentally_ showed up at the location of their date and blithely ignored the fact that they were _on a date_ and invited herself to join them. She could make it appear perfectly natural; Finn was her best friend after all…

She cast her eyes to the ceiling, slumping lower against her pillows. She was a _terrible_ best friend! Finn had been nothing but nice to her – well, mostly – and here she was plotting ways to ruin his date with his girlfriend. And let's face it, that was actually the least of her crimes against him.

If she didn't just _need_ Quinn in her life so much, she would feel absolutely awful about what she was doing behind his back. Truthfully though, and especially when she _was_ with Quinn, she didn't feel guilty so much as generous; generous because she was allowing him to still be her boyfriend even though she clearly shared something so much deeper with Quinn than he did.

She didn't share a fetus with her, though, and that was always when the guilt came crashing back down on her. Guilt _and_ fear, if she was being totally honest. She was feeling things for a pregnant girl!

Quinn had said she was giving her baby to Mrs. Schuester but there were a million things that could put that plan in jeopardy before the time came. Plus, it was just wrong because how was Quinn going to handle passing her baby off like that, to her teacher no less – someone she had to see every day – and be okay with it? Rachel knew Quinn had the ability to shut her emotions off and come across as cold and indifferent, but she also now knew that she wasn't like that on the inside. So, the worst scenario was that Quinn would have a total meltdown after the baby was born. The best was that she'd have a _baby_ after the baby was born, and she was using the term _best_ lightly.

And while the label they were going with now was "casual," Quinn had also said that she could see them together in six months, which didn't really make it seem all that casual and that _should_ be a good thing, but…

Since the football game Friday night, Rachel had been living in a constant state of being overjoyed and terrified, and both just kept getting worse.

Rachel wanted to be with Quinn more than anything. She knew she had to stop pushing for more, but that didn't stop her wanting it; she wanted to be Quinn's girlfriend and she wanted Quinn to want her to be her girlfriend. It wasn't an issue of coming out, she'd be just as happy being her secret girlfriend. And she didn't care that there was a boyfriend in the picture, too, despite however much she _should_ – she just really wanted some kind of commitment. Some knowledge that Quinn was on the same page. That she wasn't wading in with both feet, heart in her hands, while Quinn was just dipping her toes in the pool for fun.

She didn't know how to get that across though, when whenever she tried to bring it up, Quinn became defensive. They had actually made a lot of progress out on the porch last night but that had only been about the physical side of their rel… dating. Rachel still didn't know where she stood emotionally, or, rather, where Quinn stood. And while the prospect of them hitting the next base in nine weeks instead of six months was extremely appealing, it wouldn't help her if _nine months_ from now they were still "casually dating" and Quinn decided to keep her baby after all!

Not nine months, more like six and a half now. And Quinn could see them still being together in six months!

Gah!

It wasn't helping to go over and over this in her mind – she was just driving herself crazy – she needed to speak to Quinn about it. She needed to know she was more than just casual, that Quinn was willing to commit on some level above the physical. Because the physical stuff between them might be really wonderful, but kisses alone weren't going to calm her nerves about the coming months or reassure her that she was doing the right thing by taking this chance.

Quinn would see it as pushing, but really, when her _heart_ was at stake, did Rachel have any choice?

* * *

"So, do you like it?" Finn asked with a grin, "Pretty awesome place for a date, right?"

Quinn looked around. It was smelly and noisy and her nice shoes were getting covered in crap.

"I'm not sure," she told him, "There's an obscene amount of grunting going on right now, considering we're in a family environment."

"It's oinking not grunting and they can't help being obvious or whatever," he corrected and she rolled her eyes. Rachel would have gotten the joke, even if it was lame.

"It's nice, Finn," she admitted and squeezed his hand a little, "What made you think to bring me to a petting zoo?"

"My mom used to bring me a few times a year when I was younger. Then, I don't know, I hit fourteen and spazzed out or something because I told her I couldn't go anymore 'cause, like, I wasn't a little kid. I guess I've missed it. It was always like special time for us, time when my mom wasn't working or cleaning and she was just mine for the day, you know?" He was blushing at his admission but his nostalgic smile didn't look embarrassed, "And I know you want to look into adoption, which I'm cool with if that's what you want, but I read somewhere that you can bond with babies while they're still, like, _in you_ and I figured this might be a nice way to do it."

Quinn gave a tremulous smile before turning her face away. Damn pregnancy hormones making her want to cry over every stupid thing!

"I love you," it just slipped out, but she meant it. In that moment she really meant it.

Finn stopped walking and let go of her hand. When she turned to see what was wrong, he was grinning down at her and then long arms enveloped her neck.

"I love you, too," he leaned down to kiss her.

She indulged him for a few seconds before pushing at his chest, "Not in front of the pigs," she chuckled, catching his hand and leading him on.

And, oh boy was she leading him on.

Unthink that!

Finn was smiling and Quinn remembered the advice that had come in her prayers: Keep Finn happy. As long as he was happy the guilt was kept at bay. That probably wasn't the message Jesus had been trying to send, but it was enough for her.

She couldn't give Finn up and she didn't want to give Rachel up – really, she wasn't sure she actually could even if she did want to – and if going out of her way to make Finn happy was the compromise then she was happy to do it.

"So, what did you want to do now?"

"Let's go and see the sheep," Finn said excitedly.

Sheep? Her nose wrinkled; the rabbits and guinea pigs were more her thing, but… okay.

"Sure," she tucked her hand under his arm, "I love sheep."

* * *

It all came down to simple mathematics in the end. You only had to look at the list to see that.

She'd been able to cross one or two things off of the cons – like the fact that Quinn would never like her back, because she'd been _completely_ wrong about that. It was the first time she'd ever been happy to be wrong about something – but even their removal hadn't done much to alter the imbalance between the two sides.

If she could just find a way to level the list up, to prove there were just as many good points as bad, then maybe that would be enough to put her mind to rest. The only problem with that plan was that it wasn't exactly up to her. She couldn't do more than she was now and Quinn was already telling her to slow down.

No, this had to come from Quinn. It was her past and present behavior that were the underlying causes behind Rachel's anxiety after all.

Rachel read down the list of cons – there were fourteen now that she'd added _Lashes out verbally when sexually aroused_ and _Baby!_ – and tried to think of ways Quinn could make them up to her individually. Except for the baby one, obviously, because that would be unfair. The sensible path would probably be to allow Quinn to see the list so that she could come up with her own ways.

It would mean more that way too.

She could already hear Quinn's sarcastic laughter in the back of her mind as Rachel presented her case. She'd tell Rachel to stop pushing, tell her again that she should be happy with what she already had. Quinn wouldn't see the need for this because, sure, she had her own issues about them that she was dealing with – most of those were on the con list – but she seemed fine with drawing a firm line between how they'd been _before_ and how they were now, as if holy water had been pouring from the shower heads that day, washing away the three years of torment and sluicing clean her tarnished soul.

It was true that they had emerged from the steam as different people; it had been the catalyst that had caused them both to see the other in a new light and while it hadn't happened overnight – not by a longshot – it had been the start of it, had opened them both up to the first possibility of being more than Quinn the Heartless Bully and Rachel the Spirited Victim.

She smiled, thinking their love story would make a good country song, and then smiled again when she realized they even had a love story for someone to sing about – Taylor Swift would be a good contemporary choice or maybe LeAnn Rimes for some added sophistication. Oh, she should sing _How Do I Live_ for her next MySpace video! It would be perfect training for her vocal range while simultaneously summing up her current thoughts and… Crap. What if Quinn watched it? She might think it was about her and _Easy, tiger_ wouldn't cover that epic disaster waiting to happen.

What was she doing? Since when had she ever censored her talent and showmanship to appease somebody else?

She scribbled _Personality-altering effects_ below _Baby!_ and focusing on her list again reminded her she was _supposed_ to be focusing on the list. This was important and she really believed it would help Quinn as much as her once their balance was achieved.

The thing was, Quinn might feel cleansed by the holy shower and Rachel might want to put their past behind them so as to be free to explore this magnetism they apparently shared, but that didn't make it _cease to exist._ And it was still evident in the way Quinn had carelessly reduced to her to near-tears more than once yesterday. She was still gun-shy around Quinn and Quinn was, well, too _casual_ about hurting her feelings.

For them to continue, for them to make it to six months or even nine weeks – and _goodness_ she wanted them to make it to nine weeks! – that had to be corrected.

So, the why was easy, but she still wasn't sure about the how because Quinn _would be_ resistant.

The end of her pen tapped against the list as she thought hard.

She _had_ coer – persuaded Quinn into doing other things she didn't want to do before, like Friday night's speech for instance…

She rolled her eyes, "I am not breaking up with her just so she'll do what I want to win me back!" she muttered, "That would be callous and entirely a step too far."

Also going against what every fiber of her being wanted. What if Quinn consented but took her time in carrying out the necessary corrections? Rachel didn't want to go a week or a month or however long it took before she could be with her again. God, she was already thinking she might die if no opportunity to kiss her presented itself over the coming week!

Oh, but that was a thought. Quinn liked her kisses too. She'd seemed very upset last night when Rachel had been acting like she didn't want to kiss her. Maybe there was something in that she could use as a bargaining chip?

Some part of her knew that she was bordering on crazy with the way she was obsessing about this, but that wasn't really anything new to her and she'd been obsessing over Quinn for a month now, so if she was already in this deep she might as well keep going, right? Especially if the outcome was everything she hoped it would be.

Her pen was tapping again.

Quinn would definitely respond more to the carrot than the stick. And why not? Who didn't love carrots? And Quinn said she mostly ate salads to which a carrot was a very solid ingredient. There was no way dangling a carrot in front of Quinn could fail.

She quickly added _Likes salad_ to the pro list, frowned and wrote _Likes animal flesh more, possibly_ to the con list, before discarding the paper and falling back on her bed to formulate a plan.

* * *

"Have you spoken to Rachel since Friday night?"

Quinn nearly choked on her bacon and egg sandwich, "Uh," she said as she wiped her mouth with a napkin, "No, why would I?"

"I don't know. I just thought you might have," Finn took a massive bite of his own bacon and bacon sandwich and shrugged.

She thought that would give her some time to think up a suitable response but he swallowed after like _two chews_.

"I'm not, like, trying to rag on you here or anything, but don't you think you should apologize to her?"

She lost her appetite and set the sandwich down, "That's what I did Friday night."

"Really?"

"Yes!"

"Oh. Okay," he took another bite, which was gone just as fast. "I guess it just didn't really come across that way because you were sort of, what's that word? Diminishing her in front of half the school."

She frowned, "You mean demeaning?" He nodded. "I didn't do that!" Had she? No! Rachel definitely wouldn't have forgiven her if it had come across like that, "I stood up and told the truth, Finn. That's all. And she's happy I cleared her name."

"So, you have spoken to her?"

Another be careful what you wish for moment. So many times she'd wished Finn would use the intelligence she knew he was capable of deep down, but why did he only ever use it when it was detrimental to her?

"No," she said firmly. "But why wouldn't she be? Everyone thought _she_ tried to kiss _me_ and I set them straight." What a wonderful choice of word, she mentally rolled her eyes, "She should be thanking me."

"Maybe she will if you apologize."

"You actually want me to personally apologize… to her face?"

"Yeah, or no, I mean it's up to you, obviously, but things have been real tense in Glee recently and maybe you… _saying sorry_ , will un-tense it. It can't hurt to try."

"Okay, I will."

He grinned, "You will?"

"If you want me to, yes."

She'd already apologized for it a dozen times, one more wouldn't hurt. She could even do it in front of Finn. It would satisfy him and give her an excuse to talk to Rachel in school tomorrow.

Finn finished his sandwich and, surprisingly, used his napkin instead of his sleeve to wipe his mouth, "So, is uh, is me still being friends with Rachel gonna be a problem?"

She sighed, "You being friends with Rachel has always been a problem."

It was true. If he hadn't started showing an interest in Rachel, she wouldn't have either…

Maybe it was a blessing in disguise too, but it was still a problem, one that was only going to get worse. She was doing what Finn had wanted to do – probably still wanted to do – and while she was pretty sure Rachel was over her crush on Finn, she'd never actually said so and her goofy smile whenever Quinn mentioned _his_ crush on _her_ lit up her whole stupid face.

Honestly? It would make her laugh if she wasn't so seriously concerned about it.

This had the potential to become the messiest love triangle in history if they all weren't careful. Not that she could expect Finn to be careful, because he could never know about it. She would just have to make sure that Finn didn't feel the need to pursue Rachel romantically and that Rachel had no reason to be interested if he did.

She suddenly saw a lot of second base in her future and then choked on her water over realizing that such a thought could pop so coolly into her mind. What was she? Some kind of slut-machine now? Did the answer to everything lie with her breasts? _Forgive me, Lord, for offering up myself as pay…_

Finn turned and his mouth quirked to one side in confusion to see her palms pressed flat together in front of her chest.

"Amen. I forgot to say grace," she cleared her throat, thinking she would have to finish that up later because right now she had to look for answers outside of her bra, "Finn, I can't pick your friends for you, but just don't forget which one of us is your girlfriend in future, okay? I know I messed up this time, but it was motivated by you _always_ taking her side over mine. Don't give me cause to doubt you again and I won't stand in the way of your friendship with Rachel."

He was quiet while he thought about it and she braced herself for an argument.

It never came.

He grinned as he shuffled closer to her on the bench and put his arm around her shoulders, "I can do that. I don't want to give you any more reason to doubt me. And, hey, if you hang out with us too," his tone was playfully wheedling, "then you can keep an eye on me and make sure I _always_ take your side in future."

"Ugh, no, I am not hanging out with Rachel. Stop trying to talk me into being friends with her because that is never going to happen. Just because you have some weird fascination with the little –" she couldn't bring herself to go where she usually would, "– doesn't mean I do." She ignored the urge to look to the clouded Heavens for the Hand of God about to bitch slap her for such enormous lies, "Come on, its getting cold just sitting here."

He took her hand as he caught up, "What did you want to do now?"

The petting zoo wasn't that big and they'd surely seen everything there was to see. Plus it really was getting cold now the afternoon was wearing on. Also she kind of wanted to get home and use family time to log on to Facebook.

Was it sad that it hadn't even been a full day yet and she was already missing Rachel? If it was, then it was even sadder when she admitted she'd been missing her since waking up that morning.

However, a look at her watch proved that Finn was probably expecting at least another hour of date time and she hadn't forgotten her promise to do her best to keep him happy.

"It's getting late and it's a forty minute drive back to town…" Beside her, he sighed, guessing what was coming. "… but if we head back now, we'll have time to go to The Lima Bean for hot chocolate before my curfew."

"Oh. Yeah, okay, cool," with a surprised, happy smile he started pulling her towards the car.

With a smile of her own, she let him. Mission accomplished, for today at least, and Facebook would still be there in a couple of hours.

And hopefully Rachel would be there, too.

* * *

Satisfied that she had formulated a fool-proof plan, Rachel spent an enjoyable hour eating the Italian food her daddy had picked up from Giuseppe's on his way home from work – assuring him that no, she wasn't sick of pasta after eating at Breadstix the night before – before heading back to her room to work on her MySpace Video.

Movie night usually started at seven-thirty, but her dad had a lot of paperwork to finish before Monday morning – that he should have done Saturday night but he'd procrastinated in front of the TV instead! Honestly, it was a wonder she had such a good homework ethic with him as a role model – so they'd postponed it for an hour, on his promise that he would be all done by then. After seeing the pile of files he had to go through, Rachel was skeptical but on her daddy's insistence she was giving him the benefit of the doubt.

She went through her limited supply of LeAnn Rimes' songs, dedicated to her choice of singer if not her original songs, and listened to each of them as she tried to pick a winner.

While they were playing, she set up the camcorder, booted up her computer, and made sure the microphone was connected properly. She did her Doe, Ray, Me's and a few more complicated runs to warm up her vocal chords and then sat at her desk while the last few songs played out.

She logged into MySpace in readiness and checked her previous video – posted three days ago because she hadn't had a chance since; Quinn was upsetting her schedule far too much, and she should be annoyed but it just made her smile – but there were no new comments. Fingers idly tapping her keyboard tray, she couldn't think of a reason not to and she logged onto Facebook, too.

Nearly every status update was about the party she hadn't been invited to.

 **Mercedes:** Killer night last night, guys. Although I swear that dip was funky, Matt.

 **Kurt:** I am never playing Wii Ice Hockey again! I am physically bruised from playing a virtual game? How is that possible?

 **Brittany:** Matt **,** I think I left my shoes at your house, and possibly my shirt. Can you bring them to school Monday?

 **~~Santana:** Britts, they're in my car.

 **~~Santana:** Your shoes, I have no idea where your shirt is.

 **~~Brittany:** But I took my shoes off when I took my shirt off, I'm sure I did.

 **~~Santana:** Maybe these aren't your shoes then. Actually they're not, forget I said anything.

 **~~Tina:** I think I have your shirt Brittany? I'll bring it to school tomorrow.

 **~~Santana:** What the hell, Stutters?

 **~~Tina:** False alarm, it's apparently my sister's.

 **Finn:** My girlfriend is awesome!

 **~~Santana:** You're an idiot!

 **~~Finn:** Screw you, Santana!

 **~~Santana:** LMAO Yeah, you wish!

 **~~Finn:** Uh, no, never!

 **Matt:** Thanks for coming, guys. I hope you had fun. Sorry the dip tasted weird.

 **~~Mercedes:** Yeah, that dip tasted damn weird.

 **Artie:** Just uploaded the photos. Check out the third one, guys. It's freakin hilarious!

Rachel did so immediately.

The first one was of Mercedes, Tina, and Kurt standing in a living room, that was presumably Matt's, with their arms around each other while they gave the camera posed smiles.

The second was of Santana, Mike, and Brittany dancing in a corner. Mike looked good, she noted; the clover-green button down shirt looked nice on him and he was so boyishly handsome when he was smiling like that.

The third was of something else entirely. A large television took up the edge of the shot, the image on it a white blur, but the focus was on Quinn and Mike, side by side and each grimacing in frustration at the screen. Mike looked like he was mid-curse and Quinn looked like she was going to turn and beat him to death with the little plastic sticks she held in her hands, if only she could take her eyes off of the TV long enough to do it.

It _was_ funny and a chuckle escaped her, but Oh Barbra! She hadn't really believed Quinn the night before when she'd said they'd been caught up in an epic battle, but now here was the photographic proof right in front of her.

And it had been because of her!

She shifted in her chair a little as she realized just how much she _liked_ it, and suddenly she had to speak to Quinn _now_.

She pulled up Facebook Chat and _yes!_ Quinn was online. She didn't waste any time initiating a conversation:

 **Hi!**

 **Hey :)**

 **How are you?**

 **I'm okay. You?**

 **Better now I'm speaking to you :)**

 **How was your afternoon?**

 **Okay. I just got back. I can't really chat.**

 **I have dinner in ten minutes and I have to get**

 **changed.**

Had she been too forward? Maybe she should have just said _Okay_ too? Or was it because she'd asked about her date? Or both?

 **Okay. Never mind.**

 **Sorry. Like I said, family time.**

 **I understand, Quinn. It's fine.**

 **Give me 2 hours?**

 **I can escape back up here then.**

Rachel grinned; she'd been overreacting. Quinn _did_ want to chat with her!

 **Sure, I'll be here.**

Then she noticed the clock in the corner of her monitor. Damn!

 **Actually, I won't. Movie night**

 **starts at eight thirty. Sorry.**

 **Can't you blow it off?**

The same way Quinn _hadn't_ blown off Family Time for her?

 **No. Sorry.**

 **Oh, okay.**

 **What about after?**

 **It might be too late. My Daddy**

 **wants to watch King Kong… again. :)**

 **I really like that film.**

 **If you can get out of Family Time,**

 **you're welcome to come and join us.**

 **I can't.**

 **I guess I'll just see you tomorrow.**

 **Yes. I wish I could see you tomorrow :(**

 **Why won't you?**

 **Rule one!**

 **Rachel, don't, okay?**

 **You know why it has to be this way.**

 **And it's not like you can't look at me,**

 **you just can't make it obvious you're LOOKING at me.**

 **So I can look at you in secret?**

 **:)**

 **:)**

 **If you want to.**

 **Just don't let it be obvious. We can't see each other**

 **in private if people see us seeing each other in public.**

 **That sentence sounded less weird when I started**

 **typing it out :)**

 **So will you be 'seeing' me too?**

 **Probably. Subtly.**

 **Okay :)**

 **I wish I could see you now.**

Rachel blushed and then laughed at the thoughts in her head.

 **If you ask me what I'm wearing next**

 **I think our nine week plan is going**

 **to take a significant hit ;)**

 **lmao. I wasn't going to ask that!**

 **& don't put those thoughts in my head **

**right before I have dinner with my parents!**

 **Sorry!**

 **Except not really :)**

 **You're my worst nightmare :)**

 **A strange statement to put a smiley too.**

 **:) Okay, I really have to go now!**

 **I'll 'see' you tomorrow ;) x**

 **Okay, goodbye x :)**

She sat back in her chair after Quinn had left the chat box and pondered their conversation with a smile. So, she was allowed to look at her as long as no one noticed, that was a step in the right direction. Not a big step, true, but baby steps would get them where she wanted to be eventually.

Either way their conversation had helped her pick her song and she still had plenty of time to practice and then record it before she was due downstairs for the movie.

* * *

"So, what did you and Finn do today?" her mom asked.

Quinn paused with a forkful of creamed potato halfway to her mouth, "He took me to a petting zoo."

"I like this boy," her dad said as he set his tumbler down and picked his knife back up, "I've heard stories about some of the young men at that school that would make your eyes water, but he seems like the wholesome type."

She almost laughed, because yeah, compared to some of the assholes at McKinley, Finn really was _wholesome_.

"He's quarterback as well, you said?"

As well as being wholesome? Was that a weird combination? "Yes, Daddy. He made quarterback freshman year, actually. He's really tall, as you know, so he has the edge. Coach Tanaka says he's the best quarterback the Titans have had in five years."

"Well, that's wonderful. Proves he has a good work ethic. And he's a Christian boy?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"What church does his family attend?"

She had no idea if he even went to church; actually, she doubted he did. He'd only joined Christ Crusaders after they'd started dating. He'd only joined the Celibacy club because he'd heard it was all about sex. He'd suffered some – hilarious – disappointment when he finally cottoned on – around his fourth meeting.

"I'm not sure, I'll ask him tomorrow."

"What are his parents like?"

"He only has a mom, but she's nice."

Her dad frowned, "Divorce?"

"Russell, it's none of our business," her mom murmured behind a forkful of roasted lamb.

"Of course it is! This is our daughter's childhood sweetheart we're talking about."

Despite his jovial tone, Quinn remained wary, "No, daddy. Finn's father was in the army. He died in the Gulf War. The first one. Finn was just a baby at the time."

"Oh," he washed a mouthful of lamb down with some whisky, "Terrible shame, then. I assume he is as patriotic as his father was?"

"He is."

"How is it going with the Cheerios, Quinnie?"

She would have been more grateful for her mom's intervention if she hadn't picked such a sore subject, but she forced out a cheer smile as she replied with an upbeat lilt, "Good. I helped implement an entirely new routine for the Homecoming game on Friday night so I think Coach Sylvester is very impressed with me right now."

Either that or gunning for her blood, but she was choosing to look to the positive until proven otherwise.

"That's wonderful, dear. Staying on top of that squad will open so many doors for you. I was head cheerleader at McKinley in my senior year. Of course, that was before they had national competitions, but still I did pretty well out of it."

As her mom beamed happily at her dad, who, _yeah_ was beaming back, but with a mouth full of food and his glass held close to his lips to take advantage as soon as he swallowed, all Quinn could think was – No! No! No! Noooooooo! But she couldn't say that, so she just stuck another forkful of lamb into her mouth and waited for whatever came next.

"And how is that singing thing you're doing," her mom asked. "It's not interfering with your school work, I hope."

Strange how she never worried about Cheerios interfering with her studies, which should have been much more of a concern because Coach Sylvester would pull them out of every regular lesson to practice if she thought she could get away with it.

"You mean Glee club? It's going well, I think. We have our first big competition just before Christmas, so we're working hard towards that. I think we're on track."

Naturally, Coach Sylvester finally taking up her co-director duties tomorrow would probably force them _off_ that track. She frowned as she remembered what the Coach had asked her to do on Thursday. She'd pushed it to the back of her mind but now the instructions came back to her. The question was: should she tell Rachel about it?

Probably.

But it wasn't like there anything she could do to stop Coach from doing what she wanted, and most likely Rachel would report what Quinn told her to Mr. Schuester and then he'd go off the deep end and confront Coach about it, and then _she'd_ know that Quinn had told and…

No, it was too risky. She'd just have to play her part and hope that the club was ultimately strong enough to withstand Sue's meddling.

Of course, it _would_ be a lot stronger if she and Rachel hadn't been systematically tearing it apart from the inside recently to cover up their confusing and unwanted feelings for each other. Would she have done anything differently if she'd _known_ she would one day soon be okay with those feelings? Quinn couldn't be sure, because they _were_ so confusing.

The party last night may have gone some way towards repairing the damage between the warring sides. No one had thrown anything over any one else and even the name-calling and dirty looks had been minimal – and mostly directed at her anyway – but she didn't know what would happen with Rachel back in the mix tomorrow morning. She just hoped her speech Friday night had washed out all of the animosity her lies had created. If not, she would have to watch them tear her down, and that wouldn't be the worst of it. _She_ was going to have to stand by and let it happen; that was so much worse. Especially when all she was going to _want_ to do when she saw Rachel in hallways was push her against the lockers and kiss her senseless.

"Quinn, I asked if that Rachel Berry was in your little choir."

She choked on a half-chewed broccoli floret as her dad repeated the question she'd missed the first time because she'd been too busy thinking about _kissing_ the subject of his enquiry!

"Uh, ye-yes."

"There is no _uh_ in the dictionary, Quinnie."

"Sorry, mom. Yes," she took a sip from her water glass and watched as her mom gave her dad an _I told you so_ look, "She is, daddy. There's twelve of us altogether. I sang my first solo on Thursday, it went down well with everybody," she added brightly, hoping to redirect his attention into fatherly pride.

"That's nice, honey, but I don't want you getting too involved with that group, okay?"

"Are you forbidding me from being in Glee?" she asked, confused, she'd never really been forbidden anything before except for boys in her room and carbs after seven.

Had he heard through the PTA grapevine about the risqué performance of _Push It_ the club had put on before she'd joined or was this just a _Rachel Berry_ thing?

"Of course not, honey. A bright girl like you needs well-rounded extra-curricular's for college; I just don't want you to become _too_ involved with the other children." _Too_ late!"I'm sure they don't all adhere to the same value system that you do and at your age, peer pressure is a very persuasive influence."

"Besides, you already have enough friends, what with the Cheerios and Celibacy Club and Christ Crusaders, right Quinnie?"

She gave her mom a strained smile and turned back to her dad. She knew she shouldn't, she should just let it lie and change the subject, but she was getting a sinking feeling and was curious to discover the cause.

"Is there anyone in particular you want me to stay away from, daddy?"

"That Berry girl," he said matter-of-factly, "Now, I'm sure she's a fine young woman in her own right and Lord forgive me for blaming the sins of the father on an innocent child, but I'm sure He _will_ forgive me for putting the well-being of my own daughter first."

"Why? What did her dad do?" she asked, and if ever she deserved an award for acting, it was now because her tone was pure childlike naivety, "Did he commit a crime?"

"You know her parents are homosexuals, Quinnie," her mom put in, reproachfully.

"What, both of them?"

Okay, that was _too_ far and she waited to be reprimanded – and maybe instructed to read the bible aloud for the remainder of family time. She was already cringing and therefore utterly surprised when she saw her mom bite her lip and then force a most unladylike amount of cabbage into her mouth. Was she on some kind of chew faster diet that she hadn't shared with Quinn yet? Or was she actually trying to stifle a laugh?

It was times like this – and only times like this – that she was glad that her dad still thought of her as sweet, innocent, completely clueless Lucy.

"Yes, honey, they are. And while it is not my place to judge the immoral lifestyles others choose to live, it is my place to keep my daughter safe from perversion."

"Okay," she shook her head, still trying to digest her mom's out of character reaction and her dad's totally in character bigotry, "I mean, okay, daddy. I understand." He was waiting for more. "Rachel and I aren't friends anyway. We barely even speak to each other in school."

It wasn't a lie. Well, not much of one. And from tomorrow, they really wouldn't be speaking in school if they were going to maintain their cover.

"Good girl. That's very sensible of you. Their kind are _poisoning_ small town America with their impious beliefs and it hurts my heart to think of you being subjected to it in that school. It used to be such a _good_ school too, didn't it, Judy?"

"Mmmhmm," her mom mumbled, still chewing that gigantic mound of cabbage.

There was more to come; she knew there was and her heart was sinking as fast as her stomach at having to sit through any more bad-mouthing of Rachel and her family – who had only been perfectly nice to her so far, despite all of her bad first impressions. She braced herself for it, knowing that to try and change the subject now that he was on a roll would be futile.

"Have you finished, Quinnie?" her mom asked once she'd finally swallowed the cabbage patch, "Then why don't you go and get started on your homework? Didn't you say you had a big European Studies project due in this week?" she asked as she nodded her head backwards under the pretense of leisurely scratching at her neck.

She wasn't even _taking_ European Studies this semester! Why did her mom never listen to a thing she… Her eyes looked down at her clearly not finished plate… Oh!

"Yes, thanks, mom. If you don't mind me being excused, I should try and get it finished tonight."

Her mom nodded that it was okay and she was already leaving the room with her plate and water glass when her dad called after her.

"I'm proud of you, Quinn."

For not being friends with Rachel? Awesome. That was just… yeah, awesome.

She turned back to him with a sweet smile, "Thank you, daddy."

She finished the last few bites of her meal in the kitchen before clearing up after herself and heading back to her room.

She dithered over whether to go back on Facebook.

She'd been excused so fast that there was still twenty minutes until Rachel's movie night started; she might be able to catch her and that would help to dilute some of the badness she'd just endured.

Her dad's words were staying with her. If he thought her just being _friends_ with Rachel was bad, how would he feel about knowing there was something more than friendship between them? She wasn't a fool, she knew how he felt about gays; it had been drummed into her enough while growing up, but now it was about _her._ It was _personal_ now. And it wasn't like she'd ever consider coming out to him – because how stupid would that be? – but she'd _just started_ to feel like it was okay to come out to herself and now she felt guilty about it all over again.

Only, if possible, ten times worse!

She didn't want to be considered immoral or impious or perverted, or whatever other words he'd wanted to use but hadn't had the chance to say, by anyone, let alone her daddy! She didn't _want_ to be the thing poisoning America.

She just wanted to be with the only person who made her feel like maybe there was more to life than faking her way through it.

What was so bad about that? Rachel was a good person; she didn't smoke, or sleep around or commit crimes. She was a good daughter, she strived to be a straight-A student – although she'd probably be lucky to scrape a C in American Lit this semester, Quinn thought with a fond smile – she was loyal and loving and devoted to living a healthy and cruelty-free life.

If she was a boy, and not Jewish, her daddy would be all over her – him – trying to make her – him – his next son-in-law, so why did that of all have to fall apart just because Rachel was a girl? What difference did it really make in God's grand scheme of things? When He pointed you in the direction of the person you were supposed to love, how could it be wrong to follow that path?

She'd been sitting on the edge of her bed, staring at her computer screen – still open on Facebook – from four feet away, but that word got her up and pacing. _That_ word! Because really?

No, she was just feeling raw from the conversation with her dad, and it was leaving her open to emotionally misinterpreting her feelings. She was reading more into them than she should be. Rachel was important to her, but not _that_ important. She loved Finn! She really did, she'd thought so just that afternoon. She loved Finn, he was her boyfriend, and her daddy approved of him. Not to mention that they were going to have a baby together – okay, her daddy wouldn't approve of that so much – and, okay, she was going to give the baby up because it was the right thing to do, but she and Finn would be fine. And sometime down the line, after they'd both finished college and they were married, they'd have another baby, one that was actually his, and everything would be okay.

Just okay.

Nothing more, nothing less.

She did love Finn, he would be a good man, but when had she last actually thought she was _in love_ with him? Like, He's-the-one-I-can't-live-withoutlove? Not since she'd found out she was pregnant, or at least not for the right reasons since then. The last time she could think of was before joining Glee club; it was why she _had_ joined Glee, to keep him. But how much of that had really been about not being prepared to lose him to _Rachel Berry_ of all people?

She laughed tiredly because, boy, had that backfired on her.

Had she ever been _in love_ with him?

Had she ever been _in love_?

 _Rach…_

No! Not that. No, she was being stupid. She couldn't… It was too much!

Pacing the length of her bed again, she dropped to her knees, hands folding into each other unconsciously.

"I don't know what I'm thinking anymore," she murmured, forehead resting on her clasped hands.

 _Yes you do._

"I don't!"

 _What do you think you're thinking?_

"That I'm going down a dangerous path."

 _Why?_

"I'm in over my head. Liking someone, having a crush on them, is one thing. I'm scared this is more."

 _Why are you scared?_

"You're omnipotent, so I know you're aware of the conversation I had with my father earlier. I also know you're pretty big on obeying thy father, so where does that leave me in Your eyes?"

 _The same place you've always been, Lucy. I love you unconditionally and I trust in your ability to love beyond boundaries and borders, whatever form that may take."_

"So, it's okay?"

 _Only you can answer that. You are the only one who can find your true path and it's only human to take many missteps along your way._

"So, Rachel's a misstep?"

 _Do you think she is?_

"I don't know. I don't want her to be but I also kind of do. I like her, but I know my life will be simpler if she turned out to be a misstep."

 _Then you have two choices. You can turn back on the path now and forge a new one. Or you can follow it to the end and see what you find there._

"Which one do you think will be the easiest?"

 _Lucy, don't sell yourself short – you have never taken the easy way out, so I am sure whichever you choose will be the hardest._

Quinn rolled her eyes, "Amen."

She dragged herself up to sit on the side of the bed again, wiping tears out of her eyes. She hadn't even realized she was crying. Was that a sign of religious rapture? It hadn't felt very rapture-like at the time.

As with all of her conversations with Jesus, she was left feeling faintly confused but with a stronger sense of determination. It was all about faith, after all. And now she had to choose between having faith in herself or having faith in her father's opinions. She loved her daddy… God, she loved her daddy more than anyone or anything! But this time, on this occasion, she knew he was wrong. She could never tell him that – she'd probably be in the closet until the day he died to avoid telling him that – but that didn't make it untrue.

Now she just had to decide whether or not she had enough faith in Rachel, enough faith in _them,_ to make it worth going down this path.

Were they _right_ enough to count out all of the wrong stacked against them? Finn, the baby, her parents, Cheerios, her popularity, her _future_? There were so many reasons to turn around.

Quinn wiped some more tears away and moved to her computer chair. It was after nine now, meaning Rachel would be watching a movie with her dads, so it was safe to go back online.

She shut down Facebook without even looking around and opened up her MySpace account instead. She just wanted to watch Rachel's performance of _Taking Chances_ again; hopefully it would make her feel better, or at least remind her that she wasn't alone in this. Rachel was leaping too, they were doing this together, so if it all did blow up in her face, if the worst case scenario of somehow everyone finding out happened and she lost them all – and, God, please don't let that happen, she couldn't have that happen, but _if_ – she would still have Rachel.

And _maybe_ that was just enough.

There was a new video up, posted only half an hour ago, and now she could see what Rachel was wearing, she thought and smiled and blushed. Not over the short black skirt and the gray and white argyle sweater, but at the memory of the conversation they'd had and the reminder it gave her of their nine week goal.

Not that she really knew what that goal was exactly and she was a little scared to think about it, but it still sent a shiver of excitement through her all the same.

She maximized the video screen. There were no comments yet and she was the first to view it. It felt special, in a sappy way that she was embarrassed to even admit to herself, that she was the first to see Rachel's latest performance.

Chuckling softly, she clicked on the play button and sat back in her chair. Rachel's MySpace selections had been so eclectic recently, she really had no idea what she might be about to watch.

She didn't know what exactly her first assumption was when the music began to play – and while the tune was catchy and Rachel's voice was undoubtedly as stunning as ever – the first few lines weren't particularly flattering.

 _I know all about,_

 _Yeah, about your reputation_

 _And now it's bound to be a heartbreak situation_

Of course, Rachel wasn't _necessarily_ singing about her. She shouldn't jump to conclusions. There were plenty of people at school that had bad reputations and could potentially break her heart.

 _But I can't help it if I'm helpless_

 _Every time that I'm where you are_

 _You walk in and my strength walks out the door_

 _Say my name and I can't fight it anymore_

 _Oh I know I should go_

 _But I need your touch just too damn much._

Okay, bad reputation or not, she had better not be singing about anyone else! The thought of Rachel needing anyone else's touch at all, let alone _that much_ … it made her want to punch Mike in the face just so he knew he didn't stand a chance. And Finn, too, so he knew better than to get any ideas.

And then the chorus kicked in and she realized she did know the song; it was from that film, _Coyote Ugly_. They'd watched it at Santana's two summers ago, over and over, and Brittany had gotten into trouble with Mrs. Lopez for dancing on their bar to this song and accidentally, at least that was the story they'd gone with, kicking over a decanter of sherry or something.

 _Baby, you're the right kind of wrong_

 _Yeah, baby you're the right kind of wrong._

Quinn sat back again, smiling.

 _It might be a mistake_

 _A mistake I'm making_

 _But what you're giving I am happy to be taking_

' _Cause no one's ever made me feel the way that I feel_

 _When I'm in your arms_

Rachel could have been pulling these lyrics right out of Quinn's heart. Was this the way Rachel felt about them, too? It certainly looked as if she was singing out her feelings.

 _They say you're something I should do without_

 _They don't know what goes on when the lights go out_

Rachel's steady gaze turned sultry and she winked at the camera. Quinn felt her cheeks blush again and she bit her lip against a goofy smile.

 _There's no way to explain_

 _All the pleasure is worth all the pain_

 _Loving you, isn't really something I should do_

 _I shouldn't wanna spend my time with you_

 _I should try to be strong_

 _But baby you're the right kind of wrong_

 _Yeah, baby, you're the right kind of wrong._

She grinned through the remainder of the song, eyes locked on Rachel's as if they could see each other through the screen and the time elapsed between Rachel performing it and her now watching it. She knew despite how upbeat it was and the light in Rachel's eyes as she sang there was a darker undercurrent here; it spoke of their issues as much as Rachel's lyrical willingness to forge on in spite of them, but it was the very fact that they were the issues that Quinn was worrying about too that made this so wonderful. They were more in sync than she'd realised and that gave her hope that they'd be okay, that they really did stand a chance.

When the song was finished she listened to it again, and then again, before clicking to leave a comment.

Actually, she should change her name again first, because she was currently going by Quinntruder still and she couldn't leave the comment she wanted to under such an obvious name.

When she was done, she logged out of MySpace – if Rachel was watching _King Kong_ , it would be hours before Quinn could expect a reply – and finally got on with her homework.

She felt lighter now than she had since the conversation at the dinner table; maybe even since she'd given her insane speech on Friday night. Yes, there were a dozen reasons why they were wrong to try to be together and maybe another dozen things on top of that that would stand in their way, but as long as they were on the same page, as long as they lo…

Her brain shied away instinctively, it was just _so big_ of a concept _,_ but she forced herself to be strong, because, _God_ , if she couldn't tell the truth to herself, what hope did she have of making anything work with Rachel? As long as they _loved_ each other, everything else would just have to be okay.

She had faith that it would be. She had faith that she was on the right path. She had faith in Rachel and what they shared together, as crazy and confusing and overwhelming as it was.

And, _Oh God_ , she couldn't wait to "see" her tomorrow. She'd never wanted Monday morning to come so fast before!

* * *

It was after midnight when Rachel finally dragged herself up the stairs to her bedroom, her loud yawns blocking out most of her dad's apologies for making them start the film so late.

She didn't really mind, even if it was nearly two hours later than she usually went to bed on a school night. She'd enjoyed the film as much as she always did and her sleep had been so patchy recently, anyway, thanks to Quinn, that she was more or less accustomed to only getting around five or six hours instead of her standard eight. At least tonight she could be pretty sure she would sleep like a log the second her head hit the pillow.

She'd changed into her pajamas before the movie so it only took a minute – well, three and a half because tiredness was no excuse for skimping on dental hygiene – to brush the popcorn and soda from her teeth before she could fall into bed.

She had literally fallen, face-planting the pillow, when she realized that her computer was still on. She'd disabled the sleep alarm so that she wouldn't have to boot it back up to check her latest video for comments before bedtime. In hindsight, she cursed her foresight and pushed herself back off of the mattress.

She altered the time on her iPod's alarm first for an hour later – better to skip her exercise routine just this once than be tired all day at school tomorrow – and then sleepily made her way to her desk.

She had a comment! The thrill that always came with comments was tempered by the knowledge that they were almost always horrible, but with a deep, preparatory breath – that was really more of another yawn – she clicked on it anyway.

 **Yourrightkindofwrong:** I think you found our song. It's perfect for us, don't you think? :) And you sang it beautifully. x (and somebody help me, because in that sweater you actually manage to make argyle look hot! ;) I may never forgive you for that!) I can't wait to "see" you tomorrow. Goodnight, Yourrightkindofwrong. xxx

Cheeks burning from the strength of her blush and aching from the size of her smile, Rachel suddenly had a brainwave and printed out the internet page before dutifully deleting the lovely comment.

Once the jarring noise of the printer had stopped, she turned everything off and carried the printed out page to bed with her, reading the comment a few more times before placing it on the cabinet – so that she could read it again as soon as she woke up – and turning out the light.

She didn't even care now that she'd picked that song because she'd been feeling a little huffy and insecure about them. Or that she'd meant the lyrics to be more damning of Quinn's attitude than encouraging. How could she, in light of Quinn's response?

Maybe she didn't need her plan after all? Was there any need to force – uh, _persuade_ Quinn to prove emotional commitment now, when her comment pretty much showed she was feeling the exact same way as her?

Was she feeling the exact same way? Did she feel like this was more than a… than a fling now, more than casual dating? Did she see them as serious? Was she falling, too?

Rachel had a million more questions but her eyes were closing against her will and there was nothing she could do except succumb to sleep – but at least she was doing it with a smile on her face for once.

* * *

Thanks for reading. The chapter title comes from the song by LeAnn Rimes 'Right Kind of Wrong', which was also the song Rachel sings in this chapter.


	7. Chapter 7

Thanks for all the reviews for the last chapter. :) And now after all of the excitement of the weekend they go back to school.

 **Chapter seven: Surrounded by Hyenas Circling.**

"Hello, fellow Glee-clubbers!" Rachel greeted brightly.

Artie, Mercedes and Kurt all turned their heads to her, their expressions a mixture of wary and weary, and she sighed on the inside. It wasn't like she'd planned to speak to them but they were all gathered around Mercedes' locker which happened to be just two down from _her_ locker, and she hadn't wanted to appear rude by ignoring their presence and…

"Hey," they all said flatly in unison, as if they'd rehearsed it, but that was silly. Except maybe it wasn't; they were all performers after all.

Despite them, Rachel couldn't seem to stop herself from being so chirpy, "And how is today treating you all so far?"

"I simply can't take you this early in the morning," Kurt said with a wave of his hand and then walked away.

Rachel watched him go, trying not to feel hurt.

Mercedes just rolled her eyes and went back to her locker without saying a word.

Artie at least sounded a little friendly, "Why are you so chipper on a Monday morning?"

"What's not to be chipper about?" She opened her locker to stow the books she didn't need until later. She noticed that there was a folded piece of paper waiting for her, "I had a wonderful weekend and I'm ready to embrace the week ahead."

"Oh, yeah? What was so wonderful about your weekend?" Mercedes might have sounded bored, but Rachel knew that gossipy glint in her eyes by now. She was fishing.

Concerned about giving something away, she thought it best to side-step Saturday altogether, "I had an amazing Thai meal with my parents yesterday and then we watched King Kong, one of my all-time favorite movies. It was lovely." Out of politeness, she added, "Did you two have an enjoyable weekend too?"

"Yeah, it was okay," Mercedes said casually.

"Matt had a party," Artie put in, totally unconcerned for her feelings.

"Yeah, but it wasn't all that. Pretty sure his dip gave me food poisoning."

"Oh, did he?" she asked innocently, "I didn't realize. That's a shame, I would have attended had I known." The two shared a look that was about twenty percent guilty and eighty percent relieved, and Rachel had to hold tight to her hurt annoyance so that it didn't show. "Anyway, Coach Sylvester is taking on her Co-Director duties this afternoon and I think it would be wise if we, as a club, had a meeting about it first. You know as well as I do that she can only mean trouble so we need to come together to form a plan of attack, or a plan of defense at the very least."

Mercedes and Artie nodded, both fully on board with her hypothesis.

"When?" Artie asked.

"Lunch time, because I think it might be a long meeting. We'll have a lot to discuss."

Mercedes rolled her eyes but didn't disagree, "We'll spread the word. Choir room, right?"

Rachel nodded, "And…" she hesitated because this felt disloyal, but Glee Club was bigger than any of them, right? She couldn't let her personal relationships get in the way, "… the Cheerios, we can't necessarily trust them when it comes to Coach Sylvester. I'm not suggesting we leave them out of the meeting – we are a team after all – but I believe we should be wary of any suggestions they make. In fact, of anything they say at all during the meeting." She gave them a bright smile, "Just to be on the safe side."

"You're suggesting we ignore your girl Quinn?" Mercedes teased with a smile.

"Firstly, Mercedes, Quinn is not _my girl_ , we aren't even friends, and second of all: yes I'm saying we should _subtly_ ignore their input. We don't know what Coach Sylvester is feeding their minds with."

Not that she thought Quinn would do anything to jeopardize them, but she wouldn't put it past Santana and Brittany to be Sue's spies and saboteurs.

"Okay, got it," Artie affirmed, "See you at lunch."

Mercedes gave her a nod of agreement as she shut her locker and then they both left, completely dismissive of the fact they all shared first period and could have walked together if they'd just waited a few seconds.

Not that she'd wanted them to wait on this particular occasion.

Her eyes zeroed in on the folded piece of paper on top of her history book.

With a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure nobody was too close, she opened it up.

 _Good morning :) x_

Rachel melted, literally. Well not literally, obviously, but she didn't know _how_ was she not a puddle on the floor right now! Quinn could just be so adorable sometimes, she thought as she smiled sappily at the two neatly written words and the cute hand-drawn smiley with a kiss that looked like a bowtie, or was it a bowtie that looked like a kiss? It didn't matter, either one just showed what a perfect person Quinn could be. Why didn't she show this side of herself all the time? Okay, maybe she didn't feel the need because she already had the whole school falling at her feet, but if she let them see this side of her they wouldn't just be down there out of fear; they'd be down there out of reverence, because her awesomeness made knees go weak.

It certainly made Rachel's knees go weak, anyway.

Folding the note back up, she tucked it into her history textbook so that it wouldn't get lost or crumpled and then took that book along the others she needed out of the locker before closing the metal door.

In retrospect, she could only blame the fuzzy feeling the note had induced and the consequent stars in her eyes for what happened next.

She started for class; totally oblivious that she was stepping straight into the path of some cheerleaders until a hand pushed against her chest, sending her back into the lockers with a dull clang.

"Watch where you're going, Manhands," Quinn snapped out as the three Cheerios strolled past.

Rachel watched them go with a heavy sigh. The push hadn't been hard and the impact of her back against the lockers hadn't even hurt but… She shook her head – maybe she should look on the bright side. Quinn _had_ just touched her boob again, after all.

* * *

"What are you grinning about?" Santana asked.

Quinn shrugged, because she couldn't think of an answer that wasn't lame or a dead give-away. Santana eyed her suspiciously and then the perfect response came to her suddenly. As suddenly as the actual realization hit her.

"No morning sickness. I haven't been sick since Saturday."

"Yay you," Santana said sarcastically.

Quinn rolled her eyes, "Yeah, you try chucking your guts up every day for ten weeks and see how well you cope."

"Eww. Thanks for the TMI. You are so gross."

"Love you too, San."

"Whatever, Preggers," Santana drawled, but bumped her shoulder with hers in a show of camaraderie.

Santana pulled her fingers free from Brittany's and offered her a sweet goodbye before walking into the classroom. Quinn was about to follow but Brittany's hand on her arm stopped her.

"Everything okay, Britt?"

"I get it, I really do, but how would you feel if she pushed you into a locker?"

"I…" This was what she'd feared and it was happening. She had to swallow a lump in her throat before she could speak, "It's not… I don't know what…"

Brittany didn't wait around for her to get a sentence out. She just gave her a sympathetic smile and then left to go to her own class.

Quinn fell back against the door frame, waiting until her breathing regulated itself. That had been scary. She'd already known Brittany knew too much – it was why she'd planned to speak to her about it – but to have it laid out in front of her… she hadn't been ready for that.

Maybe Brittany didn't know that much, though? What if her advice had been general and she was just using Rachel as an example? After all, Brittany had no more love for Rachel than anyone else did, so why would she be sticking up her for specifically? She might have said the same thing if she'd pushed Tina into the lockers instead.

Wishful thinking?

Maybe, but she _really_ hoped not.

* * *

Between third and fourth periods their paths crossed again.

"Hey, Stubbles," Santana called out in the crowded hallway. "My mom's running a clothing drive for the homeless this weekend; should I tell her you'll be stopping by for a new wardrobe?"

Rachel didn't find anything funny in the theft of charitable donations or in her own fashion sense, but Quinn laughed as she walked past and didn't even spare her a glance. Kurt was watching, she noticed, so she stiffened her features and walked on as if she hadn't heard any of it.

* * *

After the lunch bell rang, she went to her locker before heading to the Choir room. There was another folded note waiting for her.

 _I'm so sorry. I'll make it up to you when we're alone, I promise. Glee-lunch is going to be hell, so I'm asking for your forgiveness ahead of time :) Please take everything I say with a pinch of salt. xx_

Rachel ran a frustrated hand over her face. She could do what Quinn asked, of course, but this wasn't easy. She'd known they would have to keep their distance but so far she had been shoved into a locker, called names, and laughed at. To make matter worse, none of the other Glee kids were speaking to her unless they had to, and even Finn had given her a barely coherent grunt "hello" when she'd passed him in the hall earlier.

It was a lot to take and as much as Quinn's apology meant to her, it didn't do much to take the sting of the day away. So, she walked to the Choir room with heavy feet and an even heavier heart.

Nearly everyone was there already, the only two missing were Santana and Brittany. Suspicious?

"RuPaul, if your skirts get any shorter we're gonna be able to see your junk, and I swear on all that is holy that I will kill you if that happens."

"I kinda wanna see Rachel's junk. I've never seen a girl with boy parts before."

Or not.

Rachel spun on her heel, "Santana, Brittany. Nice of you to join us, now shall we get down to business?"

* * *

This was Quinn's – latest – definition of hell!

First of all, she couldn't defend Rachel against all the snide comments coming her way and on top of that, this was a meeting about Coach Sylvester's plans. She hadn't known that; if she'd known she would have made up an excuse to stay away!

She was the only one who knew Coach's plan!

She did her best to feign disinterest while at the same time not looking _too_ disinterested because she didn't want anyone thinking she was a mole – even though she reluctantly was. She probably came off looking twitchy-eyed and pissed off, which didn't make her feel any better about any of this. And it must have only gotten worse when, after Rachel had finished her speech on unity and all standing together in the face of adversity, she called on her.

"Don't you agree, Quinn? As head of Coach Sylvester's band of Cheerios, I imagine you have some valuable insight for us."

Was Rachel punishing her? Of course she was!

"Not really." Everyone was still looking at her, so she shrugged, "I'm not sure what you expect me to say. Is Coach going to try and destroy us from the inside? Probably."

"Do you have any specifics?" Rachel asked impatiently.

"No."

"How do we know you're not just lying?" Mercedes asked.

"Yeah, it's not like you have a great track record with the truth recently," Mike put in.

Oh great, he was back. She turned in her seat to glare at him before facing Rachel again.

"I won't be offended if you don't believe me; actually, I don't care if you don't believe me. But no, I can't give you any specifics on Coach Sylvester's plans."

Rachel gave her a barely perceptible nod and dismissed her, turning her attention instead to Finn and Mike – more punishment? she wondered – and Artie and Tina as she encouraged them to brainstorm defense strategies.

So, she knew; she'd read between the lines and deciphered the message Quinn was sending her and had chosen to respectfully back off rather than force a confrontation. She should have been relieved, but Quinn just knew that she was going to pay for it later when they were alone. At the very least Rachel would hound her for details, and at worst it would be, well, worse.

She'd have to come up with something good to take Rachel's mind off of it and she already had a few ideas. Jeez, just looking at her standing there, with her hands on her hips and her eyes bright and passionate as she ranted, was giving Quinn more than a few ideas!

She followed the rest of the conversation intently, throwing in phrases like _mutual respect_ and _group harmony_ and _the importance of remembering that at the end of the day they were all teammates working towards the same thing_ because she might not be prepared to give Coach Sylvester's plan away, but she did care about Glee a little. And even more about Rachel, and she didn't want the club destroyed any more than anyone else here did.

Most of the kids gave her funny looks whenever she spoke, like they didn't even believe what was coming out of her mouth _now_ , but Rachel seized on everything she said – recognizing it as the insight Quinn wasn't prepared to give directly, perhaps – and expanded upon it. So did Finn; he was up beside Rachel now, doing his bit to rally them together, and by the time the bell rang to signal that lunchtime was over, they'd all been subjected to quite the little pep-talk.

There were groans of relief at finally being able to escape but they all agreed to show a united front against whatever stunts Coach Sylvester pulled. Quinn knew it would be pointless in the near future, but hopefully they'd keep the message in the back of their minds and that the coming weeks wouldn't damage the club irreparably.

Quinn tensed as she picked her bag up from beside her chair and stood up, because it looked as if Rachel was going to approach her. But then the other girl seemed to change her mind with a sigh as she turned to the white board to scrub out the motivational slogans she'd been writing throughout the meeting.

She was about to walk out with Santana and Brittany when Finn blocked her path with a smile and a, "Hey, I haven't seen you much today."

"I'll catch up with you in gym," she told them before returning his smile, "That's because I actually go to every class. Walk me to Spanish?"

"Uh, yeah sure, but I thought first, we could like…"

She cast an eye at Rachel, who seemed to be taking a ridiculously long time to complete her task – nobody cleaned a white board that meticulously, except maybe Miss Pillsbury – before fixing Finn with a stern look.

"Not in school, Finn, and especially not right now, when we have class."

"What? Oh, no, I'm not, like asking you if you wanna make out or anything. I _know_ you'd never do _that_ in school."

Did Rachel just smile? Quinn could only see one side of her face but it definitely looked like she'd just smiled! She shook her head in despair, but at least only the three of them were left in the room and Finn had his back to _Smiley_.

Finn dropped his voice to not-quite-a-whisper and sort of nodded his head back towards Rachel, "I thought now might be a good time for you to do that thing you said you were going to do yesterday?"

"What thing?" But then she remembered. He wanted her to apologize personally – again. "Oh. Okay, fine, why not?"

She was surprised he hadn't picked a more public location for her humiliation but she didn't mention it in case he thought it was a good idea. Finn turned with her and took her hand, obviously planning to stand beside her throughout the ordeal. Had all of the "united front" talk gone to his head or was he actually jealous of her talking to Rachel? Even at his own insistence? It would have made her feel guilty if she didn't honestly find it funny.

She let him keep a hold of her hand but she led the way, this wasn't a time for showing any meekness, even if she was about to just apologize.

"Berry."

Rachel swivelled around on her toes, as if she'd been expecting her arrival, "Fab… Quinn."

She didn't bother to hide her smirk at the cocky slip and quick correction; her smirk held power and Finn would take it as a show of said power rather than affection.

"Was there something you needed?" Deep brown eyes darted nervously to Finn before meeting her own again, "You have a confession perhaps, pertaining to your part in Coach Sylvester's dastardly plans?"

"Quinn doesn't know anything about them, Rach, give her a break, okay?"

They both looked up at the boy; Quinn with surprise that he had not only listened to her yesterday, but he was actually following through on his promise and Rachel with a kind of indulgent skepticism as if he was a child who really should be old enough to know that Santa wasn't real but she wasn't going to be the one to break his little heart with the truth.

Resisting the urge to laugh, she cleared her throat, better to get this over with, "I wanted to apologize personally for trying to kiss you last week."

"Oh. Why?" Rachel asked, straight-faced.

"Because, apparently, Finn thinks my kisses are terrible and that they shouldn't be inflicted on anyone."

"I never said that!" Finn groaned, but it was background noise because Rachel was doing her best not to smile and it was dangerously adorable.

"Well, Quinn, obviously I can't say for sure – because I stopped you before I could experience it for myself – but I have to say that I think Finn is probably mistaken. I have always imagined you kiss quite nicely."

Don't smile, don't smile! Cool indifference, come on, you used to be so good at it!

"You've imagined kissing my girlfriend?"

Rachel's eyes shot to Finn again and for a split second she looked guilty but she schooled it well, "As an acting exercise, of course. The perfect stage kiss is very hard to master and having relatively no experience in that area myself, I find it useful to imagine how others might kiss, to work on my own moves, so to speak. For example, I imagine Mercedes would be a very tender kisser, while Tina would be rather ferocious, Kurt would be timid, but Santana would chew half of your face off," she shuddered a little at the thought of kissing Santana and again Quinn had to curb the urge to laugh. "And Mike I imagine would be _very_ good because I expect his lips are as graceful and passionate as his dancing."

There went the urge to laugh and she scowled at her. Rachel's gaze deliberately dipped to where her hand was still holding Finn's, before she looked her in the eye again.

"So, yes, I have imagined kissing Quinn, and I'm sure at the very least it wouldn't be terrible, Finn."

"Just not terrible? I'll _kiss_ you right now, and we'll see if your legs can hold you up for long enough afterwards to say that to my face again?"

Rachel took a step back with the white board eraser held up like a shield but Quinn's step forward was restrained by Finn pulling her back by her hand. Flaunting her fantasies of Mike's lips in front of her like that and then saying she was just _not terrible_?

 _You wanted me to peel you out of your dress Saturday night, Rachel! Or did you forget that already?_

"Quinn," Finn said, concerned, as he pulled her back again.

"I am an awesome kisser, Berry," she pointed a finger at her, "And don't you forget it! Come on, Finn, we're going to be late for class."

Rachel watched them go impassively.

Once they were out of the Choir room, her shoulders slumped but she didn't stop dragging him towards their Spanish class.

"What was that about?" he sounded shell-shocked, "I just meant for you to apologize for lying about _her_ kissing _you_ , but, uh… that was weird."

It had been flirting. It had gone wrong. Really wrong.

"She just pisses me off."

"I noticed. It's okay, maybe you can try the apology again some other time."

"No, _that_ was it. If it wasn't good enough for her or you, tough. I'm drawing a line under this whole business. I – _we_ have enough going on, don't you think?"

He stepped up again, "Yeah, we do. And you're not a bad kisser; you're a great kisser. Rachel would be really lucky to have you kiss her."

She turned to smile up at him until she saw his expression, "Stop imagining us kissing!"

"I'm not!" he denied quickly, guilt written all over his reddening face.

She glared, "You're lying."

"Well, if Rachel's allowed to imagine it," he tried, grinning sheepishly.

"Whatever, Finn," she rolled her eyes. "You're disgusting," she added, because seriously, that was too weird.

* * *

Rachel requested a pass to go to the bathroom ten minutes before the end of fifth period and she walked boldly through the halls until she reached her locker.

Once there, she looked left and right, and then left and right again before sidling along a few feet to push the folded piece of paper she held in her hand through the thin gap above Quinn's locker door.

Satisfied that she'd done what she came to do, she clapped her hands quietly and decided to head to the locker room early. With any luck, she could be changed for gym before anyone else arrived and would be able escape a similarly humiliating torture like she had endured on Friday. Not to mention, she didn't want to give Quinn the satisfaction of seeing her struggling to not look at her while she changed. Quinn was in a very gray area in her mind right now. She knew the blonde was in on Coach Sylvester's plans. Despite her attempts at denial, it had been pretty obvious that she was hiding something, and Rachel also knew she wasn't going to give up the details. This left Rachel in an awkward position; Glee was one of the most important things in her life right now and she should be doing everything she could to save it. Unfortunately, the other most important thing in her life was Quinn, and while she hated it, she understood why Quinn was staying loyal to Coach Sylvester.

Quinn needed the Cheerios – at least, she felt like she did – Rachel didn't _want_ to put her in a position where she had to choose. Because what if she chose the thing Rachel didn't want her to?

It was easier to turn a blind eye for now and just hope that Quinn came through when it really counted. She trusted her to, or at least she wanted to trust that she would.

There was also the little matter of Quinn nearly kissing her in the Choir room _in front of Finn_! She wanted to pass it off as good acting on Quinn's part, but she'd seen the genuine intention in her eyes, and it would have been more flattering if the intention hadn't been borne from anger.

Okay, so she may have goaded her a little by talking about Mike, but what did Quinn expect when she'd come over to talk about them kissing while holding hands with Finn? That had been unfair and with everything else Quinn had already done to upset her today, was it any wonder she pushed a little too far?

The bell rang as she pulled her WMHS polo shirt over her head and she happily made her way into the gym before anyone else even had a chance to leave their classrooms. Nodding at the gym teacher as she entered, she grabbed a volleyball from the net bag and…

Um, how did you practice volleyball on your own?

* * *

Quinn was dreading her next lesson.

The jumping around always made her feel sick nowadays, and then there was the added stress of sharing the class with Rachel.

Ever since the sophomore Cheerios had pulled their prank of dropping Rachel in the boy's locker room in her underwear, Quinn had been dealing with the added worry. Now, after the events on Friday, when Rachel had been singled out once again – only this time as a direct consequence of the lies that Quinn had told – it wasn't understating to say she would rather be walking in _any_ other direction than the one her schedule dictated. She was already braced for some kind of repeat, but she could _so_ do without that. The day had been wearisome enough without throwing her conscience into an all-out war over whether to jump in and protect Rachel or trust that Rachel could handle anything and stay out of it to protect herself.

When the time came that she couldn't put it off any longer, she pulled Finn down by his letterman jacket and gave him a sweet goodbye peck on the lips, "I'll see you in Glee."

He frowned, "It's going to be harsh."

She nodded in agreement, "But we'll get through it."

They were probably talking about completely different things.

"Yeah," he gave her a smile and squeezed her shoulder affectionately before running off to wood shop or auto shop or whatever 'shop that he had now.

Sighing audibly through her clenched smile, she turned to open her locker. She noticed the folded piece of paper just as she was about to shove her bag inside.

That was new.

Pulling her bag back over her shoulder again, she leaned into her locker and unfolded the note.

 _You're an_ _amazing_ _kisser! I never want to kiss anyone but you because I know the best they can hope to be is "just not terrible" in comparison. xxxxxx_

Well, okay then.

Her face was red-hot, so she stayed at her locker for longer than necessary as she refolded the note, then pushed it into the front pocket of her bag, and stowed her bag inside.

"So," Santana's shoulder hit the locker next to hers as she announced her presence, "What did you make of the Midget's team spirit speech?"

The words were like a cold shower to her blush, but brought an angry redness to her cheeks anyway.

"Who? What?" she asked impatiently as she slammed her locker shut.

"RuPaul! In the choir room for, like, the _whole_ of lunch. Don't tell me you got so lost in her big brown bovine eyes that you didn't hear a word of it." When Quinn glared, Santana held her hands up for peace, "Joking, Q. Wow. Still sensitive about your little crush then, I see." Quinn's glare intensified and then she started to stalk off towards the phys. ed block. Santana went from leaning on the row of lockers to walking beside her fluidly, laughing as she promised, "Relax, I'm messing with you."

"Well, don't!"

"Don't make it so easy then. I mean, I know you've always had a stick up your ass about guys and sex and all that shit, but you used to at least be able to laugh about it, too."

That's because it had been about _boys_ and talking about them had been expected and encouraged, and it was _much_ easier to make a joke out of having sex with a boy than it was to take the idea seriously.

"Say something funny and I'll laugh," she countered, but changed the subject before Santana could take that as a challenge, "Be honest, did Sue get to you before Berry did?"

"A better question is, did she get to _you_ before Berry did?"

They sized each other up with narrowed eyes, each waiting for the other to crack first, but eventually it was laughter that seized them. They jostled shoulders, still giggling, as they filtered through the locker room door with the other girls who shared their gym period.

Brittany, already in her gym clothes and stretching out her long legs, greeted them on their usual bench, "What's so funny? Sorry I had to be so harsh on you earlier, Q, no hard feelings?"

Quinn accepted a hug from her friend, smiling and raising her eyebrows in confusion over Brittany's shoulder for Santana's benefit. Santana shook her head like she didn't know what to do with her and started to get changed.

"We're good," she promised, detaching herself so that she could catch up with the others, "And we were talking about Coach Sylvester's plans for Glee club."

"Oh, you mean how she's going to use Mr. Schue's biodiversity against him and sprinkle rainbow seeds in his hair."

She didn't even have to _act_ confused this time, but it was Santana who whisper-whined, "Britts!" for revealing their involvement.

It left her feeling a little uneasy, but Quinn grinned at them both, "Sound to me like you two know more about her plot than I do." She saw Santana start to wrestle inside her red polo shirt to get her head out, "And no, not because of how far I've had my head up Berry's ass."

When Santana's face finally popped turtle-like out of her top, she was frowning, "It's not as fun if you steal all of my best lines."

"If that was going to be your best line, you need some new material."

Just over five minutes later, Quinn was still tossing comments back and forth with Santana and semi-seriously discussing the Glee/Cheerios situation, as they trailed into the gym at the back with the stragglers.

The gym teacher was a short, stocky woman with an ink-black crew cut, who wore camo shorts and a tank top to match. Despite modelling herself after GI Jane, she was a mild mannered woman and was generally considered pointless as a result. She did have a fearsome ability with a whistle, though, and she exercised it now as they came through the big double doors, "That's it, line up. We'll only have time for one game at this rate. Come on, line up in front of Rachel Berry and Brittany Pierce."

"I'm sorry," Santana began, stepping through the crowd of girls and into the teacher's personal space, "Berry's a captain?"

"She's been here practicing while the rest of you have been lolly-gagging your way from class, so yes, she's a captain. Now get in line, Lopez!"

Grumbling, Santana fell back next to Quinn, who was already starting to feel anxious. She didn't know what would be worse: for Rachel to choose her first or to not choose her first.

Brittany won the coin toss, "Santana!"

No surprise there, but now it was Rachel's turn, and Quinn held her breath.

"Mercedes!"

Okay, so she was a little hurt, but mostly she felt relief as Mercedes strutted over to Rachel's side, proud to be picked first for once. This was good because now Brittany would pick –

"Reena!"

What the hell? Reena _was_ good at volleyball, but Quinn was supposed to be one of Brittany's best friends! It was okay though; Rachel had proved her point and the next name to leave her lips would be –

"Tina!"

No, that wasn't the right one! Brittany, Brittany, do the right thing.

"Angela!"

She was going to kill someone! She didn't know yet if it would be Rachel or Brittany, or Mercedes or Tina or Reena or Angela, but she was _definitely_ going to kill someone and she was _so_ going to fucking enjoy it!

"Quinn!"

She actually shoved Tina out of the way, "You picked me _third_!"

Rachel's eyes were sultry when she half-turned her head to mutter below the girls' voices and background sounds echoing of the large gymnasium, "Growl in my ear like that again and I won't be able to keep myself from kissing you right here."

Quinn's eyes shot wide in surprise as a ribbon of heat uncurled within her, but she didn't miss a beat, " _Look_ at me again like that and I might just beat you to it."

Rachel smiled as she called out, "Selina."

"Pick Kassie next if you get the chance," Quinn said into her ear, "She's a bitch, but she's tall."

"No way," Rachel shook her head, "I'd rather pick me than her."

"You are you, and she's good."

"And I'm merely okay at this game, and I'd still pick me," Rachel turned her head fully this time, making eye contact, and she felt her heart pick up.

This was the closest they'd been all day and the air between them seemed to sizzle with the electricity they were trying to suppress. Her eyes fell to Rachel's lips; they were just inches away and so inviting. For a split second, she envied the likes of Brittany and Santana and Kassie who could – and did – freely kiss the people they wanted anywhere in school. Until she remembered her decision on that was more about class than gender, and she forced herself to focus on what _could_ happen in the here and now instead of what she secretly wished could happen.

She looked around with disdain at the rest of the girls, "Seriously, pick her, because I am _not_ confident about your choices so far and I can't carry all of you to victory on my own."

With a mischievous – no actually, _downright evil_ , look in her eye, Rachel raised her voice to carry across the courts, "You seem to be under the mistaken impression, Quinn, that this team is a democracy. It isn't. Welcome to Team Berry, where I call the shots."

While Quinn silently fumed at her, trying and failing to think up a suitable comeback worthy for the rest of the class, Mercedes snickered behind them.

"Girl, like you were ever in charge of Team Berry. You were just a token figurehead."

The wind went out of Rachel's sails, "That's… that's not entirely true. I held sway over some decisions."

Quinn looked over Rachel's wilting shoulder and spoke before she could think better of it, "Whether it's true or not, I didn't see anyone rushing to form Team Jones, did you? So, you must have needed Berry for something you couldn't provide."

Mercedes grumbled something under her breath that Quinn didn't catch and then turned her attention to Tina.

"I'm surprised you stood up for me after I just intentionally embarrassed you, but thank you," Rachel murmured.

"Oh, I'm still mad about that, but that doesn't mean you don't always come first."

Rachel smiled, ducking her head shyly, "And now you need to step back before I do something that embarrasses _both_ of us."

Quinn grinned as she whispered, "Meet me after Glee?"

"Of course, but can I ask why?"

"Can't I just want –"

"Head's up, Stubbles!"

Quinn wasn't startled as much by Santana's shout as she was by Rachel's scream right next to her ear followed by the girl dropping into a crouch. Before she could question it or ask if she was alright – _SMACK!_ A rubber ball with the full force of Santana behind it hit her directly on the forehead. She staggered back and landed on her ass at Mercedes' feet as the other team erupted into raucous laughter.

Rachel, on her knees a few feet away, was the only one not laughing at her as she scrambled over, "Oh my God, Quinn, are you okay?"

"I'm fine!" she snapped, pushing Rachel's hand away from protectively covering her stomach. She hadn't fallen that hard; she'd pushed her hands out behind her and they took most of the brunt, "Get off of me!"

She pushed at Rachel's shoulders when she didn't get the hint fast enough and sent her sprawling too, increasing the laughter around them despite the teacher now yelling for quiet.

"I'm so sorry, I wouldn't have moved if I'd known…"

"Yeah, sure you wouldn't have," Quinn got back to her feet to yell at Santana, "Why did you warn her, you idiot? You must have known she'd duck!"

"What?" Rachel asked weakly from the floor, "You planned that?"

"No, that was Santana being spontaneous and I'm about to kill her for it!"

Santana shrugged, not in the least bothered that she'd missed her mark, "Maybe if you hadn't been so cozied up to her, you wouldn't have gotten hit by mistake. Think of it as a life lesson, Q."

"My foot is about to teach your ass a life lesson!" She was already striding around the net to wipe that smug smirk off of Santana's face, but Rachel was also back on her feet and put a restraining hand on her arm.

"Quinn, she's not worth…"

"Get your freakingManhands _off_ of me, Berry!" she snapped, roughly shrugging the contact away, "And leave me alone."

Rachel held her hands up and stepped back, "Fine, Quinn. Fine!"

Quinn was about to round the net and throttle Santana with her bare hands, and Santana was _still_ smirking, when a long, loud whistle blew, effectively stopping her mid-step as they all turned to the teacher.

"This can go two ways," she barked out, "You can apologize to each other and we'll start the game…"

"Yeah, I don't think so. What's the other option?" Santana asked.

"A week of after school detentions for both of you."

That would mean no Glee for a week – which wasn't all that unappealing right now – but Coach would make life even more unpleasant for her if she wasn't on hand for whenever she was needed.

Surprisingly though, Santana shrugged and apologized first, "Whatever. I'm sorry, Q. You know I wasn't actually aiming for you anyway, but I am sorry I yelled out a warning."

"I'm sorry too. I know you didn't mean to do it. It was just a bit of a shock, being _smacked in the face_ with a ball like that, you know?"

The teacher seemed satisfied with them and began to get the game underway.

"Isn't anyone going to apologise to me?" Rachel piped up indignantly, "As the intended target of the unprovoked attack I think I'm due one."

The teacher hesitated before looking at Santana.

"No way in hell, I'll take the detentions."

Sighing, she looked at Quinn.

"If it wasn't for Berry, I wouldn't have been _smacked in the face_ in the first place."

With no sure way of knowing how to proceed, the teacher just left Rachel hanging, "Okay, let's play some volleyball. Into your positions, ladies. Those not picked move to the bench, we'll switch you in at after the first game," she blew her whistle again and Quinn picked up the discarded ball and rubbed at her sore forehead – a small lump had already formed, she realized as she moved into the server's position.

"I'd like the ball, please, Quinn. I'm serving first."

She didn't even look at her, "No, you're not."

"As captain of this team I insist –"

"Shut the hell up, Berry!" And she punctuated her command by launching the ball over the net in a devastating serve that resulted in the other team fumbling, then dropping the ball so that it bounced out of play.

Thanks to Rachel's stubborn stupidity, Brittany had picked Kassie, which meant that their team needed all the help it could get. She'd suffered enough humiliation on team loser already and she wasn't going to add to that by losing the match, as well.

* * *

Rachel knew exactly why Quinn was acting the way she was.

She had been embarrassed in front of everyone and was feeling self-conscious and vulnerable as a result. The fact that Santana had played on the two of them conversing before the deadly strike had obviously added to that. So, she fully understood why she had been pushed away, snapped at, and then treated horribly.

That didn't mean she condoned it!

Quinn would have a lot of making up to do later. Luckily, Rachel already had the perfect plan formulated for her to do so. The only bright side was that now all of her planning the day before wouldn't be going to waste after all. Although, it wasn't much of a bright side considering the high her day had started on.

The game was an understandably boisterous one; despite the apologies, tensions were still running high and Quinn and Santana both seemed to be on a mission to kill the other via volleyball. Rachel rose to the strenuous challenge, wanting to help Quinn as much as could, resulting in getting in each other's way by going for the same ball more than a few times.

Quinn didn't get angry like Rachel expected; in fact, she pretended to ignore it was happening at all. Only pretended to, though.

The first time it happened, their sides brushed together as they both reached up at the same time, and Rachel muttered, "Are we still meeting after Glee?"

"Yes."

The next time, Quinn's back bumped into her front and she caught Quinn's hips to stop herself from staggering backwards, "Where?"

"Our place."

"You want me to walk to the freight yards?"

A few minutes later, Quinn barged into her side to reach the ball first, "Our other place. Our school place."

"Okay." They had two places now that were just theirs! Despite her residual anger, that gave her a warm feeling.

Tina had just served and Brittany had sent it back with force into the middle of the five of them. Rachel and Quinn both leaned down and in, both clasping their fists together to punt it back over the net.

"Why?" she whispered as she got to the ball first for once and shot it up into the air.

"I'm going to have something for you," Quinn leapt up even as she spoke and hammered the ball across the net with a grunt. It hit Santana full pelt in the stomach, making the girl double over and cough as the ball bounced down and away from her, earning them another point. "That was an accident, but it felt so freaking good," Quinn muttered only loud enough for her to hear.

Rachel grinned, "I consider myself avenged."

"Screw that! I was avenging myself," Quinn gave her tiniest of winks before moving back into position to wait for the serve.

Rachel was feeling all enamored again, what with the wink and the idea of Quinn having something for her, but then she made the mistake of going for the same ball as Mercedes, who apparently had something to prove, and they became tangled up as they collided and both fell to floor.

Quinn's laughter was the first to be heard, though not the meanest. In fact, it was downright affectionate compared to everyone else's, "How on Earth did I get saddled with Team Loser?"

"I don't know, Fabray," Kassie sneered, "Maybe next time tell your _girlfriend_ not to pick you?"

For a moment, it looked like Quinn was going to start yelling again, but she just adopted a sneer of her own instead, "You seem exceptionally obsessed with the fantasy of me being a lesbian, Kassie. Why is that? Do you want me or something?"

"Uh, no! I'm not a fucking freak lesbo like you!"

Oh, Barbra! Still on the ground, Rachel closed her eyes, not wanting to witness any actual bloodshed.

So, she was surprised to hear Santana's voice cut clear through the cruel, adolescent laughter first, "Did you just call your captain a _freak_?"

"What?"

"Did you just call," Santana was enunciating every word now, "your cheer captain a freak?"

"Um… yeah. Why?"

"Then you need to get down on your fucking face right now!"

Rachel's eyes popped open in alarm to see Quinn just standing there, hands on her hips and her face impassive, perfectly happy for Santana to call the shots.

"Santana Lopez!" the teacher began, "You will not use such language…"

"Sorry Ms. Hedges, but this is Cheerios business and it's bigger than you. _Why is your face not on the floor yet, Kassie?!_ "

Kassie dropped like a rock, laying on her stomach with her palms flat on either side of her head, and her nose touching the scuffed gym floor, "You can't do this to me! I'm Homecoming Queen! I'm worth ten of her!"

"And yet you're on the floor and Quinn's not, so… I guess I'm not much of a royalist."

Rachel exchanged a look with Mercedes, who looked as equally shocked and confused by this turn of events.

Santana stepped up until she was standing right by the bully's shoulder, "Remember how this feels, Kassie. You feel pretty humiliated right now, don't you? You should, because you deserve to! If I ever catch you disrespecting your cheer captain again, I will make you do this, _wherever_ you are, do you understand me?"

Kassie was still defiant, if somewhat more whiny about it now, "You call her names all the time!"

"I'm her best friend, I can call her whatever I want! But you're nothing; just a wannabe who can't get her damn backflips right for love nor money."

Quinn finally spoke, "But right now, Kassie, you're a nothing who's a Cheerio. Cross us again, and you'll just be a nothing."

"Okay, that's enough!" The teacher blew her whistle again, "All of you hit the showers and cool off!"

As most of the class dispersed quickly, Quinn offered Mercedes a hand up from the floor. Only when the other girl was on her feet, muttering thanks before walking off, did she offer her hand to Rachel.

The gym was mostly empty now and so she felt free to speak her mind, "What happened to me always coming first?"

Quinn's lips twitched into a smirk as she pulled her up, "Don't push our luck! Now come on, you heard the teacher, get that ass in the shower!" And she swatted playfully at Rachel's butt to get her moving.

Rachel grinned flirtatiously – or tried to, "Was that an invitation, Miss Fabray?"

"To shower with me and fourteen other girls, why yes it was, Miss Berry."

"Hmm, not quite as sexy as what I was thinking."

"I should hope not!" Quinn's scandalized tone set them both off laughing as they walked out of the empty gymnasium.


	8. Chapter 8

Thank you everyone who reviewed the last chapter.

* * *

 **Chapter Eight:**

 **Your Arms Around Me Should Make**

 **Everything Feel Alright.**

The locker room was alive with conversation as Rachel and Quinn walked in, one behind the other. It slowed to a curious murmur as they separated to go to their respective benches and then died out altogether when Rachel stripped off her polo shirt.

"I don't think so, Midget," Santana said, with automatic distaste. "You can stay out here until I'm done."

"Santana, you know that is completely unnecessary now."

"Do I?"

"Well, in light of Quinn's confession on Friday night…"

"Seriously? I have no idea how you orchestrated that piece of propaganda theatre, but I didn't buy it. There's no way Quinn could ever need anything from an oompa-loompa _that_ badly."

Rachel didn't like the shrewd look in her eyes very much and she scrunched her gym shirt defensively over her chest with nervous hands.

Brittany – who was changing in between her two best friends just a bench away – nodded, "Yeah, you're like her least favorite little person, because she doesn't even like candy, do you Quinn?" Quinn was standing motionless, staring vacantly into her Cheerios issue locker like she'd forgotten why she came. Rachel saw the muscles in her neck and shoulders twitch at the sound of her name, but she was doing a pretty good job of pretending she hadn't heard any of it. Brittany continued regardless, "So, that can only mean one thing, right?"

"Like maybe that kiss was more about what she _wanted_ than what she needed?" a voice goaded from somewhere deeper in the room, getting a few laughs from the girls who were still fired up from the volleyball match and the brutal show of Cheerio dominance that had cut it short.

"That's not what I was going to say," Brittany was shaking her head, ready to correct them, but the conversation had already moved beyond her and this one had more potential.

"What _I_ wanted?" Rachel asked the anonymous heckler.

The following silence made the answer as obvious as if it had been shouted by every girl at once, but Rachel was still slow to understand the implications and wondered why she suddenly heard Santana mutter, "Shit!" before throwing a scared glance at Quinn.

Who understood everything just fine and slowly turned away from her locker, "No, what _I_ wanted. Who said that?"

There was no answer and nearly every girl in the room was suddenly very interested in the tiled floor, the wall or – if they were lucky enough to have already opened it – the inside of their locker.

"I asked, _who_ said that?" Quinn's voice was still cold and collected and showed no trace of the nerves that were currently bobbing in Rachel's throat.

There was nothing for a moment and then only a quiet, "She only said what we're all thinking."

Rachel's eyes darted around for the source of the voice, but she couldn't narrow it down beyond _someone in that corner over there_ and, judging from her frustrated expression, Quinn seemed to be having the same problem.

"Is that true?"

Nobody said yes, but the more pertinent fact was that nobody said no!

Kassie stepped out of the mass of half-undressed girls that had been shielding her until that moment with her arms crossed and a twisted smile, "Maybe some of us are just beginning to think that we kept the _wrong_ _girl_ out of the showers last Friday."

That's what all of this was about? Rachel suddenly understood all too clearly the uneasy undercurrent she'd been picking up and watched aghast as Quinn's cheeks – previously very pale – flushed red, Rachel didn't know if it was because of embarrassment or anger, but she did know it was the first crack to appear in her calm façade.

Rachel was startled out of her horrified gaping when Kassie continued her quest for payback by addressing her directly, "You're unusually quiet on the subject, Manhands. But I suppose that's hardly surprising, considering you're the one Fabray wants to ogle naked."

Oh Barbra, this was slicing far too close to the bone and she was still too busy coming to terms with the way the conversation had turned to pull off a convincing tale that would save them both. If only she hadn't argued with Santana! If only she hadn't brought Quinn's name into it. If only she'd thought to prepare for a scenario such as this! No room full of teenage girls had ever been so quiet and Rachel was the center of attention. It was usually a place she thrived in, but not today.

"I, um…"

"I don't need _you_ to validate my sexuality, Berry!" Oh, the irony! "I am _not_ gay, but if it makes some of you uncomfortable to shower with me, fine. I won't force you to answer that nagging little voice inside of you asking you why you even care."

"What does that mean?" Some girl at the back of the room asked.

Having had a few valuable seconds to gather her thoughts, Rachel was confident in handling this question, "As most of you well know, I have two gay fathers, so I believe I can answer your question satisfactorily. Quinn is referring to the phenomenon known as _Internalized Homophobia_ where-by some homosexuals display homophobic behavior due to a lifetime of learning to hate a part of themselves and –"

"Actually," the same girl interrupted, "I meant where does that leave us on the shower situation."

"Oh, in that case I don't have an answer for you," Rachel said over a background of sniggering.

"It means I'll find somewhere else to shower," Quinn took her bag and a fresh uniform out of her locker, slammed it shut, turned on her heel and walked out of the room with her head held high.

Pin-dropping silence followed her departure, but it only lasted for ten seconds or so before it was filled with the chatter of the rumor mill starting up. Quinn Fabray was at the center of each buzzing conversation, as every girl wondered what her walking out like that _actually_ meant.

Was it an admission of guilt? Was the most popular girl in school really a lesbian? Did that mean it was cool to be a lesbian now or did it mean that Quinn Fabray was no longer cool?

Other girls took a more practical stance and whispers rushed along the benches as they speculated on just how Quinn Fabray was going to retaliate. What would be the punishment for their crime against her? Because surely, there was no way the meanest girl in school was going to allow herself to be snubbed in such a way without exacting suitably horrific revenge.

But the loudest voices were the ones laughing over the humiliation the captain of the Cheerios had endured. They joked confidently about how having such a _shameful_ rumor following her around – and, if Rachel understood correctly, Kassie especially would make sure that it did – would inevitably lead her to fall from Sue Sylvester's grace and, as a direct result, the top of the pyramid.

Rachel was sickened by the fact that those with the brashest opinions – the ones happily encouraging Quinn's disgrace – were her fellow Cheerios. Her _teammates_ , for goodness sake, were the ones taking the greatest pleasure in Quinn's indignity! Personally, she felt Quinn was the only one of them who had actually retained any of her dignity. She'd certainly conducted herself with the most maturity.

She waited for Santana to speak up and defend her captain as she had done before, waited for all of the Cheerios to be told to _get down on the floor!_ for their disrespect. But for once Santana held her tongue, her face tight with as unrecognizable emotion as she continued stripping off her gym clothes.

In fact, the only ones among them not taking part in the Quinn-bashing were the Glee girls. Who were all going about their business silently. Mercedes and Tina gave each other uncomfortable looks as they listened to the noise about them and Brittany sat staring into space as if she was trying to work out what had just happened until Santana nudged her to keep changing.

Rachel just stood there, her expression probably much like Brittany's, until she couldn't take it anymore. Pulling her polo shirt back over her head, she retrieved her book bag from her locker. It was over her shoulder and she was turning for the door, when she found her way blocked by a towel-clad Santana.

"Let me pass, please, I need to –"

"You need to take off your clothes and get in the shower," Santana said her voice low and rough, barely above a whisper, "Unless you want to make this even worse for her."

Rachel wanted to argue but she could see the sense in the advice. If she ran off now, everyone in the room would know she was going to find Quinn. Which would only strengthen the theory that there was something going on between them.

It was imagining how Quinn would react to that rather than Santana's insistence that made her nod her head and comply.

* * *

Quinn waited until she was at the end of the corridor and heading for the rear door of the school before she allowed her body to start shaking. And when she did, the shaking was so bad and her legs felt so wobbly, she thought at any second she was going to fall down and start sobbing on the floor.

She had a lot of past experience with being publicly humiliated, but it had all been firmly _in the_ _past_ until ten minutes ago. Andafter three years of being the center of attention for good reasons instead of bad, it was somehow even harder to take.

Of course it was! Before, she'd only been subjected to such degradation by those better than her; she'd deserved it then, at least she'd thought so for a long time. Now _she_ was the one who was better, the best even. She had the status, the power, the respect of everyone else in her social sphere, and _it hadn't even mattered_!

Was this it? Was this how and when her high ended? Had she really thrown it all away so easily? For Rachel Berry, of _all_ people?

Somehow, she made it into her car before the sobs came. She gripped the steering wheel tightly with both hands, hunched over as tears ran off her face causing small, darker red watermarks on her gym shorts.

It took five minutes and her forehead coming to rest on top of the steering wheel, for her to get it under control, because _fucking ow_ she'd forgotten about her bump there! She rubbed at the swelling gingerly as she swiped her other wrist over her eyes – front for one, back for the other – and then sat back in the seat.

She had done the right thing by walking out. Some people would see it as giving ground, Santana would probably be one of those people, she thought with a bitter chuckle. But to stay and wait meekly on the bench as Rachel had done Friday would have been even worse. Her exit had allowed her to keep control of the situation. It might come to nothing, but it was better than the alternative.

If _anyone_ six weeks ago had dared to suggest she might be a homosexual, she would have laughed in their face and the perpetrator would have been dodging slushie attacks for a month! She would have sneered at everyone in the room and then taken an extra long shower to remind them exactly who was on top around here.

But six weeks ago she hadn't been so worried about being naked in front of the other girls. Six weeks ago, she hadn't known she was pregnant and therefore hadn't been scared about showing her bloated stomach – even on the days she didn't feel bloated, which were pretty far between.

And six weeks ago, she'd never once believed she'd ever give into that tiny tempting voice daring her to _check out_ the girls she was showering with. But now she always felt hyperaware of the female bodies all around her, especially if Rachel was among them.

Really, she should see this as a blessing; it was the perfect reason not to shower with anyone else ever again.

With another bitter laugh, she shook her head. No, there were no blessings here. Not when everyone thinking she was _gay_ was the counter-argument. Pregnant was actually the lesser of two evils there, but only by a small margin.

She wanted to just go home and forget today had ever happened. And she wanted to speak to her dad about changing schools, preferably going to a new school far away. Boarding school had never held such appeal before. It was still early enough in the school year that her grades wouldn't suffer. She was smart, anyway, she could adjust to a change of syllabus easily. And at her new school she could be popular again – she knew how to do it now – but she wouldn't try out for cheerleading again to avoid being the focus of _too much_ attention. At least not this year. Maybe after the baby was born.

It would be easier starting at a new school as the token pregnant teen than staying at McKinley, where everyone knew her as The Christ Crusader and the President of the Celibacy Club. And it would get her away from Puck and his mood swings between Considerate Wannabe Dad and Leering, Disgusting Pig Who Knows About Rachel. And it would give her a real reason to break up with Finn…

Did she _really_ want to do that?

She wouldn't do it right away, but after a few weeks she could tell him the distance thing wasn't working for her and that he should find someone else he could actually spend time with –

He'd _find_ Rachel, and who was she even kidding, he'd probably get to her before Quinn's seat in American Lit. was cold. And with Quinn gone, Rachel would probably find him just as quickly.

She brushed a few more loose tears from her cheeks.

So, she wasn't changing schools then. That sucked.

It was probably due to the volleyball concussion but even after everything… she wasn't giving up Rachel. Why should she when she'd already worked so hard to get her in the first place? Why _would_ she when knowing she was seeing Rachel after Glee was the only thing making this awful day bearable?

Slowly, she felt her resolve strengthening again. It wasn't going to be easy but she was still Queen Bitch around here until someone actually took it away from her. And if any contenders thought she was going down without a fight to the freaking death, they were in for a shock. She could fight harder and longer and dirtier than any of them, and she would do it all with a smile on her face. And she'd keep Rachel as her secret… _something_ at the same time. She was Quinn Fabray, and she could do anything.

It wasn't enough.

She tugged on her rear-view mirror until she was looking herself directly in her bloodshot eyes.

"I'm Quinn-fucking-Fabray and I can do _anything_!"

There it was.

Pulling a tissue from her glove compartment, she wiped her cheeks completely dry, thanking Jesus at the same time that her water-proof mascara actually worked, and then poked her car key into the ignition.

She had an errand to run and by the time she was back, the showers would be empty. It would mean being a little late to Glee but it wasn't like Coach Sylvester had demanded her presence and – with any luck – she'd still be there to look innocent when the fireworks went off.

Rachel was going to be mad about the fireworks, maybe almost as mad as Quinn was about her entire day.

She smiled as she pulled out of the parking lot, confident that they'd get through it one way or another, and then put her foot down as she headed for the closest gas station.

* * *

Quinn wasn't in Glee.

 _Why_ wasn't Quinn in Glee?

What if she was devastated and humiliated and never wanted to set foot in school again? Rachel was having horrible thoughts about Quinn transferring without a word and never seeing her again.

Rachel didn't even know where she _lived!_

She tried to concentrate, tried to focus on the joint speech Mr. Schuester and Coach Sylvester were giving about how happy they were to be working together, but she just couldn't. Although, she was still aware enough to register how fake the speech felt, and to hope that everyone else could see through it, too. But where was Quinn?

So, she breathed a giant sigh of relief when Quinn finally came through the door, politely apologizing to the two educators for her tardiness before taking a seat on the other side of the risers on the second row. Rachel allowed herself a quick glance in her direction before _finally_ being able to focus her full attention on the matter at hand.

And it was just as well that she did!

Not that she could really do anything to stop Coach Sylvester from leading half of the Glee club out of the room like a tracksuit-clad Pied Piper.

Now what were they supposed to do?

* * *

Quinn was pissed to discover that it was raining when she left Glee. It had been overcast but dry when she'd driven to the gas station, and why couldn't the rain have just held off for a few more hours? Now Cheerios practice was going to be wet and miserable and, more importantly, so was her time with Rachel.

Well, it would be wet, but it would take a lot more than a light drizzle to make it miserable.

She hadn't brought an umbrella with her so she leaned back as much as possible against the side of the unused workshop, using it as a makeshift shelter. It would have worked better if the wind had been blowing in the opposite direction but whatever.

Rachel appeared two minutes after her – with an umbrella! – and seemed surprised to see that Quinn had arrived first. What, so she was a little eager okay? She'd been craving this since Saturday night so was it any wonder?

Rachel opened with, "Are you okay? After what happened earlier?"

"Yes, no, I don't know. I don't want to talk about it. Come here."

Rachel obliged and Quinn stepped away from the wall so that the umbrella wouldn't be squashed against it when she wrapped her arms around Rachel's waist and buried her face in her neck.

"Are you feeling nauseous?"

"No," she admitted, "I just had a crappy day and need to breathe you in for a second. Is that okay?"

The hand not holding the umbrella slid over Quinn's upper back before cupping her opposite shoulder, "Yes. I had a crappy day too," was murmured against her collarbone.

They held each other in silence for a few minutes, the sound of the rain drumming against the fabric above them oddly soothing, before Quinn chuckled and pulled back.

"Hi," she said, before giving Rachel a kiss hello, "Sorry, probably should have done that first."

Rachel just smiled, shaking her head slightly and their lips met softly a few more times before she dropped her head to Quinn's shoulder, "Did you know what Coach Sylvester was going to do?" she asked quietly.

Quinn sighed against her hair, "I knew she was going to split the group. I didn't know how until it happened."

"You could have told me," her voice was softly reproachful.

"What difference would it have made, honestly? There was nothing you could have done to stop it, anyway."

"You still should have told me. You know how important Glee club is to me, and how worried I've been about her involvement."

"If I _had_ told you, you would have told everyone else. You would have made a PowerPoint presentation on counter-measures to use at lunch! And it would have gotten back to Coach that I'd told. I couldn't risk that, Rachel. She needs to think I'm on her side one hundred percent."

"Are you?"

"What do you think?"

"I don't know; that's why I'm asking."

Tugging on Rachel's arm, she pulled it from around her neck. Rachel stepped back as if chastised but Quinn slid her hand down and into hers, ducking her head to meet her eyes.

"I'm on _your_ side, but when it comes down to a choice between Cheerios and Glee, I have to pick Cheerios."

"Why?"

"I just do. Glee is your thing, it's where you shine. I enjoy singing and I admit that the club can be kind of fun, but _I'm_ a cheerleader. When I'm on top of that pyramid…"

" _You_ shine, amazingly so," Rachel murmured, with such intense sincerity that Quinn blushed. "I understand that, and I would never begrudge you it, but how can we be together – and before you cut in, I know we're not _actually_ together, but how can we be like this, how we are right now – if you put your allegiance to Coach Sylvester before the well-being of Glee club?"

Quinn squeezed her hand reassuringly because she didn't know how to answer. She knew she was going to say the wrong thing because other than feed Rachel BS, there were _only_ wrong things to say.

"How about I put you first and you put me first, and we both put Cheerios and Glee second?"

"You're suggesting I sit back and let you help destroy everything I've worked so hard for? You want me to turn a blind eye to that, so that we can continue as we are?"

"Maybe I'm suggesting you have a little more faith in your hard work, actually _all of our_ hard work, and not let this destroy _us_."

She waited for the fallout, but Rachel just stared at her like she was trying to figure something out.

"Can you do that? Or is Glee more important than me?"

She shouldn't have asked that, because it probably was.

Again though, Rachel just stared at her and it felt like full minutes were ticking by rather than seconds. She resisted the urge to check her watch because she couldn't ask a question like that and then complain that Rachel was going to make her late for Cheerios practice.

Thankfully, Rachel spoke before the urge became overwhelming, "You're equally important. I don't want to lose either of you."

"Then can we go with my compromise, for now at least? I don't think Coach will be a threat for long anyway; we have our own competition season starting and there's no way she's going to allow herself to be distracted from that. As soon as she gets bored, the club can reband as one group and everything will be okay."

"Do you really think so?"

She didn't know how Sue Sylvester's mind worked – paid professionals probably wouldn't even be able to figure _that_ out – but Quinn was confident enough in the woman's obsessive desire to win another Nationals trophy that it was plausible.

"Sure."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yes, I will make an effort to put us first and turn the aforementioned blind eye to whatever part you may play in Coach Sylvester's scheming."

Quinn beamed, happy they'd avoided the massive argument she'd been expecting. Who knew Rachel Berry could actually be reasonable on occasion? She wisely kept the question to herself and squeezed her hand again.

"But you're going to have to make it worth my while."

"Happy to."

Quinn pulled their joined hands to the side, lacing their fingers together as she did, and leaned in to kiss her. Sweetly at first but then with a slow passion as she let her lips slide open, pulling Rachel's with them. Rachel hummed into the kiss, pushing up on her toes to increase the pressure, stabilizing the position by gripping the open collar of Quinn's Cheerios jacket with her free hand.

Except her free hand wasn't free and the cold underside of the umbrella pulling down against the crown of her head made Quinn recoil in surprise.

"Sorry!"

"It's okay, no permanent brain damage, I think," she chuckled as she covered Rachel's hand on the handle to push it up more, "Although this is clearly why we never see garden gnomes holding umbrellas. Let me take it."

Rachel smiled but refused to relinquish her grip, "Actually, while that was very nice, when I mentioned making it up to me I was thinking about something more substantial than a kiss."

Quinn glared at her playfully, "Then I guess I won't be _making it up to you_ for another nine weeks. Well eight and three-quarters, now."

"Not like that!" Rachel gently but deliberately bounced the umbrella off of her head again. "And you think I'm the one with my mind constantly in the gutter? Shame on you, Quinn Fabray."

She laughed, "Then how?"

"I was thinking something less physical, and more…" Rachel paused as she searched for the word she wanted while Quinn waited with an eyebrow raised. "… more romantic."

"Romantic?" she repeated, thinking of candlelit dinners and walks through the park at sunset – neither of which they could really do together. She didn't want candle wax dripping all over her car, plus she didn't know of any parks outside of Lima.

"A testimony of your affection," Rachel said, suddenly looking nervous.

"Huh? Oh!" Grinning, she let go of Rachel's hand to unzip her bag and pulled out what she'd bought at the gas station, "One step ahead of you."

She held it out on the palm of her hand, which it just about fit on, and waited for Rachel's reaction.

It wasn't quite what she'd been hoping for.

"You bought me _Grumpy Bear_?"

Quinn's grin fell as she muttered, "It was the only one they had."

Rachel regarded the blue Carebear on her outstretched palm with an interest bordering on scientific observation.

She was just about to stuff it back in her bag and lash out self-consciously about ungrateful midgets, when Rachel's hand snaked out with viper strike speed and grasped Grumpy Bear around his fuzzy middle, pulling him up to within an inch of her face – to study him even more closely perhaps? Who knew?

"If you don't like it…"

"When I was upset when I was little, my Dads used to sit me on the couch, give me a glass of water, and put on _The Care Bears Movie._ My dad believed the individual sense of self each bear possessed was an important morale boosting lesson and my daddy, I think, just liked the excuse to watch his favourite cartoon." She smiled a little, "I must have watched it a thousand times throughout elementary school."

Quinn actually shuffled her feet in the grass, which it was more like mud now, with a bit of green poking through, "I didn't mean to bring back bad memories. It's just that I said I was going to buy you a teddy bear and I wanted to keep the promise, but –"

"Bad memories? No, Quinn. It always made me feel better. And while I admit Wish Bear was always my favorite when I was younger… I definitely think I could fall in love with Grumpy Bear now."

As Rachel gave her a shy smile, Quinn's grin returned, only to falter a second later when a surge of anxious – terrified actually – excitement coursed through her, "Wait, am I Grumpy –"

Rachel's lips cut her off and she was actually okay with being interrupted for once. She would have been even more okay with it if the kiss had lasted longer.

"Thank you, Quinn."

"You're welcome."

"But…"

"You're seriously never satisfied, are you?" Quinn groaned, but gave her lips a peck afterwards to prove she was joking, "You want me to get you Wish Bear as well, don't you? I'll look online tonight but I don't have long left before practice so can we please…"

"No, not that. And my bear is a wonderful surprise but I actually had something specific in mind about how you can make things up to me."

Rachel was nervous again and Quinn's eyes narrowed suspiciously, "Okay, like what? And when did thing become things?"

Rachel straightened her shoulders, preparing for something big, and she pushed the umbrella into Quinn's hand so that she could rummage around in the front pocket of her bag.

"We have rather a checkered past, but lately our feelings towards each other have started to change…"

"I'm aware of this."

"I am eager to move forward and put our past behind us…"

"Me too."

"But I am finding it difficult. I believe this is partly because you refuse to define us sufficiently, and partly because your actions towards me now can sometimes be reminiscent of your previous behavior, unfortunately leaving me open to doubt."

Quinn stiffened, and for the first time since arriving behind the workshop she realized how chilly it was, "I defined us: We're dating. And I told you I couldn't change my behavior towards you in public. And personally, I think I'm doing a pretty good job of making up for it right now."

"You are," Rachel reassured her, smiling and hugging Grumpy Bear to her chest.

"Okay then."

"But it's not enough."

"Rachel!"

"I've had a _really_ bad day, Quinn!"

" _You've_ had a bad day? Have you forgotten what I went through in gym? My _entire_ day has been like that! My whole _weekend_ was like that!"

Rachel paused and Quinn waited for the sympathy to start pouring out, except it didn't.

"Yes, well, I think I have a solution. A plan to right all of our wrongs."

"And that is?" She was handed a piece of paper and knew what it was the moment she unfolded it. It did have PRO and CON written on it in big letters, after all. She scanned it briefly before looking up again, "The letter I gave _you_ was much nicer than this."

"It was," Rachel smiled. "If you'll notice, it's in the PRO column."

It was. It didn't stop her from frowning, "What am I supposed to do with this?"

Rachel cleared her throat, "Nothing directly, if you don't want to. I just wanted you to have textual proof of the issues I'm dealing with over our… for lack of a better term, _thing_."

Quinn scanned it again, frown deepening.

"What I propose is that we take a step back from where we have found ourselves."

"You want us to stop doing what we're doing?"

"No, in fact the opposite, I want us to do it properly."

"I'm not following."

"I've examined my feelings extensively over the weekend and I believe my vulnerability is rooted in the fact that we went from you being horrible to me to us making out in your car with very little in-between."

" _Very little_! I stood up in front of half the school and –"

"I know, and I really appreciate that, but it's a separate issue from what I'm talking about. This isn't about what everyone else knows or doesn't know; it's about how we are together."

She didn't need this! She'd had the day from hell and Rachel was supposed to be making it better, not worse.

"Okay, we'll talk about it later."

"When later?"

"When we have more time."

"And when will that be?"

"I don't know, Rachel! Later! The weekend, maybe?"

"It's Monday, Quinn!"

"Yes, and?"

"This is my problem. You don't want to talk about _us_."

"You're right. I'm pretty sure we've already talked about how I don't want to talk about _us,_ though."

"I do understand your reluctance and I'm prepared to work around it," Rachel said as if she hadn't spoken, "Actions speak louder than words, as they say, so I am prepared to forego words if your actions can at least give me some comfort."

Quinn replayed the sentence in her head a few times before saying, "I gave you a teddy bear."

"And it's a step in the right direction in your efforts to woo me."

She replayed that a few times too, face blank, before finally asking, "You want me to _woo_ you? Aren't we passed that already?"

Rachel nodded, "Which is where the step back comes in. I think to make up for your past demeanors, you can woo me properly. It will give me closure and allow you the time to properly come to terms with your feelings for me." She beamed, "As you see, it's win-win."

"But I have _woo'd_ you! I gave you flowers on Friday, and Grumpy Bear today, and I bought you dinner Saturday night! How much more wooing do you actually need, considering you already like me?"

"I propose two weeks and if we are both happy at the end of the fourteen days, then I will be honored to embark on a clandestine affair with you, Quinn."

Was this really happening? Hadn't she already done enough? And now Rachel was asking for more?

"And if you're not satisfied?"

"Oh. We'll, uh," Rachel hesitated, clearly not expecting that response, "We'll extend the courtship to twenty-eight days, allowing a further fourteen to…"

"So, I'm going to be juggling school, my home life, being pregnant, Cheerios, my boyfriend, and jumping through hoops for you for the foreseeable future, am I?" Quinn took a step back, breaking all contact between them, "I thought you were supposed to be the one _good_ thing in my life right now?"

"And I want to be! But don't you want to be the one good thing in mine, too?"

"I thought I was!"

When Rachel didn't answer, she turned her attention to the dripping leaves of the trees beyond the chain-link fence and tried not to start crying again.

"It's just not as easy as that," Rachel finally said quietly.

"Of course it isn't. Because you're Rachel-freaking-Berry and you have to do _everything_ the hard way, including us. Why can't you just let it be?"

"It's hardly like I'm asking you to perform circus tricks, Quinn. I simply need a reason to believe that despite the challenges that lay in our path, that you are as committed to us as I am. And, as you refuse to define us verbally as anything more than casually dating, I thought you could at least show it through your actions. Because I'm sure you'll agree, Quinn, that knowing I am no more than a casual-date-slash-secret-make-out-partner isn't much of an incentive!"

Quinn hadn't stepped back that far in the first place because she'd had to keep them both covered by the umbrella, but now she stepped closer, close enough to brush Rachel's cheek with the back of her fingers, "You know you're more than that. Do you really think I would have done what I did Friday night for someone I just had casual feelings about?"

Rachel leaned into her touch before hastily straightening her posture, "Then you should have no trouble further convincing me of that over the next two weeks."

"No."

Rachel beamed, "See, I knew you'd come around, now first of all I…"

"I mean: no I'm not doing it!"

The smile dropped and Rachel grew impatient, "Quinn, this really isn't up for discussion."

"You're right, it isn't. You told me what I had to do to be with you, and I did it. If that's not enough for you… actually, there is no if; it _will_ be enough for you because I didn't put myself through that just so you could do this. So, stop being such a diva and kiss me before I have to go to practice."

With the matter dealt with, Quinn cupped her cheek and leaned in to capture her lips, only to let out a frustrated rush of breath when Rachel turned her face away.

"It's not like I didn't expect you would need some time to jump on board, but I should warn you that all you're doing right now is _adding_ to the con list."

"I don't _care_ about your stupid list, Rachel!"

"Of course _you_ don't care about the list! I haven't been _bullying_ you for the last three miserable years. I'm not the one who is _pregnant_ with a steady boyfriend! In fact, other than your ridiculousdesperation to retain your Barbie-girlpopularity, there is absolutely _no_ reason why _you_ shouldn't fall in lovewith _me_!"

It stung like a slap to the face, except a slap probably would have hurt less. Oddly, she didn't feel like bursting into tears _or_ punching Rachel in the face. She just felt blank, numb, vacant, much like after the first little stick had turned pink.

The anger drained from Rachel's face as soon as she'd spoken, "Quinn, I'm…"

She had cheerleading practice to get to. God, it was going to be hell. She should have quizzed Rachel on what had happened in the locker room after she'd left – knowing what Santana and the other Cheerios had said about her before walking into the den of lions would have been useful. Instead, she'd wasted it on trying to make Rachel feel better about Glee. Stupid. Still, at least it wouldn't be a mistake she'd get a chance to repeat.

"… really sorry. I shouldn't have said all of that. I just…"

She might as well get it over with. Besides, she was still Captain. They could whisper about her as much as they liked behind her back and she could make them do suicides in front of her face for the whole freaking practice. Not Santana and Brittany though. No, she needed to get them back on her side, and fast. If she was going to put all of the silly lesbian rumors to bed once and for all, she would need their help.

"… wanted you to understand how much this means to me…"

It was getting cold just standing here for no reason. Turning on her heel she walked away from the back of the workshop.

"Quinn, please, don't go!" Berry's voice was shrill and annoying behind her, "Stay and talk to me, _please_! Quinn, come back!"

Quinn almost laughed, why would she stay? There was nothing to _come back_ for. Everything she'd given Rachel had just been destroyed and forgive her if she didn't want to gaze at the destruction for any longer than she had to. Nothing here mattered to her now.

She stopped in her tracks at the corner. Actually, something did. She couldn't take back her words, or her kisses, or the foolish mistakes she'd made. They might be crushed under Berry's heels now but the girl would still have them forever. But there was one small part of Quinn's affection that she could take back.

When she walked back, Berry gave her a tentative smile and stepped to meet her, "I'm so sorry, Quinn, my words were completely out of line. You have to understand that none of the things I said, while true, mean I don't want to be with you."

 _Whatever._

Quinn snatched the teddy bear out of Berry's unsuspecting hand and sharply turned to walk away again.

"Hey! Quinn, you gave that to _me_!" There was a wet slap as a foot stamped the soggy grass. She smiled to think of the mud that must have splashed up onto Berry's ludicrous white knee socks, "Fine! Be immature about this. But at least give me back the umbrella, it is mine after all."

Oh yeah, she'd forgotten that. She threw it over the chain-link fence without slowing down and, clutching Grumpy Bear so tight in her hand she was surprised the head didn't pop off, went to cheerleading practice.


	9. Chapter 9

Sorry, sorry, sorry. I'm so busy all the time at the moment that if I get 4 hours a week to work on fic I'm lucky. Thank you for all the reviews; they do help focus my mind when I have a million and one other things going on :)

 **Chapter Nine:**

 **One Can Have A Broken Heart.**

 **[Rachel Barbra Berry]** You're being very unreasonable about this. If we could just talk about it I'm sure I can explain satisfactorily.

 **[Rachel Barbra Berry]** I know you're there, Quinn!

 **[Rachel Barbra Berry]** Doesn't the fact that I was chased by a RACCOON while retrieving the umbrella that you so gracelessly tossed outside of school grounds at leastafford me some consideration?

Rolling her eyes, Quinn threw another handful of chocolate covered raisins into her mouth. She'd never thought of herself as a comfort eater when she was younger; truthfully, she'd just been an eater. Because knowing that her only friends were Ronald McDonald and Colonel Sanders, and that the only kisses she would ever get were mass produced by Hershey was hardly comforting. Apparently that had changed with time. She was on her second bag tonight and she didn't even care. Actually she was thinking of hitting up Breadstix before they closed; Monday was All-You-Can-Eat buffet night.

 **[Rachel Barbra Berry]** Quinn, please. I know I shouldn't have said what I said, but I was angry. Can you not offer me the same forgiveness I offer you every time you say or do something mean?

Quinn slowly wiped the chocolate from her fingers before pulling her chair closer to her keyboard. **Stop cyber-stalking me.** **I'm not interested in forgiving you.** **I'm not interested in you at all.**

 **[Rachel Barbra Berry]** I knew you were there! And I know you don't mean that. Look, perhaps my plan was a little too much. I know I have a tendency to go to extremes. Maybe we can come to a compromise, one that suits us both. After which, I will be happy to draw a line under our past and concentrate on our future.

Quinn was curious, obviously, but she didn't _want_ to be so there was no way she was going to ask. Reading the words over again, she wished it could be as easy as Rachel wanted it to be. She wished… she wished _a lot_ of things could be different, like that she hadn't been so impatient with Rachel or that she'd taken her demands – because that's what they were – more seriously, but wishes didn't count for anything. They weren't real, they couldn't make a difference to what was happening _now_. Only having the will and the determination and putting in a lot of hard work ever changed anything and after the way Rachel had spoken to her earlier, Quinn didn't see the point anymore.

She couldn't face another confrontation with Rachel today; not even a silent, cyber one. She was just too tired and her head was aching and she was pretty sure her heart was broken, so she turned off the computer, before brushing her teeth again and climbing into bed. She couldn't take any more today.

As she reached over to turn out her light, she realized she was being watched from her nightstand.

"What?" she snapped, "At least I have a reason to be grumpy, what's your excuse?"

Snatching the bear around his middle, she turned out the light and settled down, holding him to her chest. It felt weird; she hadn't slept with a teddy bear in years – she'd _never_ slept with a teddy bear as Quinn – but she didn't let him go.

His little, fuzzy body tucked under her chin was probably the only reason she was able to drift off to sleep at all.

* * *

Rachel was halfway through typing another hopeful plea when the message appeared on the screen telling her that Quinn had logged out.

Sighing despondently, she shut her computer down and got ready for bed. She hadn't realized how late it was. She'd been "chatting" to Quinn for hours before she'd received proof that she was even there!

How had she made such a mess of things? She'd planned for Quinn's resistance, but that plan hadn't involved shouting those horrible things at her! Not that she had said anything untrue, but that was hardly the point, and she knew that. She'd known _that_ as soon as she'd said them.

Well, all she could do now was wait and hope that Quinn had calmed down enough by the morning to listen to her. Then she could make it up to her somehow.

She groaned as she settled under the covers. Did she even want to try? Rachel Berry didn't give up on the things she wanted – she wasn't even sure she knew how to – but, honestly, she was so _exhausted_ over Quinn. It had been a month of back and forths and ups and downs and they still couldn't get it right. Surely, anyone with any common sense had to know when to just say enough was enough?

She spent a few minutes staring at photo-Quinn in the yearbook – which had apparently taken up permanent residence under her pillow although she couldn't remember when she'd decided that was a good idea; that was sleep deprivation for you – waiting for it to make her feel better.

It didn't. Even the three lipstick marks that had been so exciting before only made her want to cry in frustration now.

She cast the book aside irritably, turned her light out and, surprisingly, fell asleep within seconds.

* * *

Quinn woke up the next morning with Grumpy Bear's nose in her mouth.

She wasn't going to think too hard about that.

After drying him off on her nightdress, she set him back on her bedside cabinet and, reluctantly, got up to face the day. The sun was back after last night's rain and the day promised to be warm for fall; which was just about the only good thing she could say for it.

Before she went downstairs for breakfast, she opened the date diary on her desk. It was mostly filled with cheerleading competitions, family birthdays, and class schedules, but today's top line was filled with something else in discreet black print.

 _Dr. Chin – 10:25am. Lima (East) Family Clinic._

She hadn't told anyone about it – at least not the date and time. It was another thing she'd been hiding from. She'd always planned to go alone anyway. Except now that it was time to actually do it, she was _so_ scared of going at all, let alone by herself.

She fingered the envelope containing her appointment letter as her heart rate picked up and her mouth dried out. It wasn't too late to cancel it. She was only ten weeks, which meant she had months to get the baby checked out before it was due. And she'd been taking her vitamins every day since Mrs. Schuester had told her she should, so everything would be alright anyway, right?

Only this was the third morning in a row that she hadn't woken up sick… what if that meant something bad?

And in the back of her mind, she could hear Rachel telling her how good prenatal care was vitally important and how her class project shouldn't be used in place of regular obstetrician appointments and _blah, blah, blah…_

 _God_ , she wanted Rachel right now! She needed her there to hold her hand; she didn't even care how pathetic that sounded. Rachel would calm her down, make it okay, make it a _good_ experience – as good as it could be – instead of a terrifying one.

But Rachel wasn't an option anymore.

After a few minutes of talking herself down from a panic attack, she found her cell phone.

"Finn, hey. Look, I know this is short notice and I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier, but we have an OB/GYN appointment this morning."

" _Uh, okay… Is that like a Star Wars thing? Because I've only seen The Phantom Menace."_

She clenched her eyes shut. She could _not_ deal with this right now! " _No_ , it's a baby-doctor thing. Just meet me at my locker before school."

She hung up without waiting for his answer. Today was going to be a long day.

* * *

" _Nothing's ever gonna break my stride, I'm running and I won't touch ground, oh no, I got to keep on moving…"_

"Sweetpea, are you okay?"

Rachel caught her bagel just as it popped out of the toaster and then twisted to face the kitchen table, "Yes, dad, why?"

"You've been singing the same two lines of that song since you got up this morning."

"I find it very motivating," she bit into her dry bagel. It didn't taste as good as it usually did but she wasn't going to give into the lure of dairy products just because she felt in need of comfort food. Quinn would not drag her down that far! "Are you nearly ready to go?"

"Sure," Leroy finished up his cooked breakfast and rinsed his plate. "How come you're so eager to get to school early again? Quinn waiting for you?" he teased.

Rachel had a hard time swallowing her mouthful and threw the rest away before finishing her grapefruit juice.

"I highly doubt so."

"What did she do?" her daddy asked, instantly over-protective he looked up from where he was shining her dad's court shoes in the corner

"Nothing. It was me. I gave her a few home truths before our tentative friendship was ready for them."

"Well, if she really wants to be your friend, she'll get over it," her dad said as he slipped into the shoes, grabbed his car-keys, and held the back door open for her.

"And if she doesn't, you're better off without her!" Her daddy called after them.

Rachel nodded, determinedly, "My hypothesis exactly!"

* * *

Quinn saw Rachel before she saw Finn.

She was standing at her locker, looking fixedly into its depths, but she must have felt Quinn's eyes because her head swivelled like a freaky possessed child's to meet her gaze.

Quinn jerked her head back to her own locker, trying to remember how to open it, and praying Rachel wasn't angry enough to break the rules and come and talk to her… while at the same time kind of hoping she would.

She didn't, and Finn was blocking Quinn's view of her by the time she looked over again.

"So, we have an Obi-Wan Kenobi meeting?"

"OB/GYN. It's about the baby, the first sonogram."

"Sonogram," he repeated like he'd never heard the word before, but then he surprised her. "Oh, like when we get to hear the heartbeat and stuff for the first time?"

She smiled because his grin was infectious, "Yes. It's this morning. You'll have to miss second period but I was really hoping you could come with me."

"Of course I want to come with you! Did you want me to drive? I don't have my mom's car here though… uh…"

"You can drive mine. I don't think I'll be able to."

"Why? Do they, like, pump you full of drugs or something?"

That would be lovely! "No, I'm just a little nervous."

"Why are you nervous?"

"This is the first time we're going to see our baby, Finn. You know, the first time we'll get to see if it has all of the arms and legs it's supposed to."

And make sure it doesn't have a tail like any spawn of Puck probably should!

"Okay, now I'm a little nervous."

She rolled her eyes at him, "I have to get to class. Just meet me in the parking lot at the start of second period, okay?"

"Okay."

He leaned down for their usual good morning kiss but she couldn't stand the thought of anyone else's lips on hers right now, and he wound up kissing her cheek.

* * *

American Literature started off beyond uncomfortable and only got more so when they were told to discuss the questions on the board with the person next to them.

Rachel steeled herself, putting on her show face, "So what do you think –"

"I'd rather work through the questions alone, if that's all right with you."

"It's not all right with me, and I resent you allowing your personal feelings about us to put my grades at risk."

"There is no us and you can resent me all you want, I honestly don't care."

Rachel fumed quietly for twenty minutes while she silently worked on the questions and all around them everyone else chattered, until finally she couldn't take it anymore, "You and Finn appeared to be having an intense conversation earlier. Is everything okay?"

Quinn tilted her head to glare at her, "How is that any of your business?"

"It's not," she doodled on her pad for a minute, "But if you wanted someone to talk to about it…"

"I don't, but even if I did, it wouldn't be you."

"Quinn, I know I upset you yesterday, but you can't just pretend there isn't something real between us."

She watched as Quinn's eyes darted around the room, making sure no one was listening.

"I'm not pretending," she hissed, "You _killed_ that reality."

"Don't you think you're overreacting a little?"

Quinn turned to her again, almost but not quite leaning into her personal space as she whispered, "I put myself on the line for you, Berry, and you threw it back in my face. So no, I am definitely not overreacting! Now, stop speaking to me before I'm forced to start cutting this class just to get the hell away from you!"

Rachel nodded, even though Quinn was already looking back down at her page. That was that then. She'd messed it up beyond the point of repair.

Quinn was up and out of her desk the second the bell rang, so Berry wouldn't even have another chance to speak to her. Not that she attempted to, which just made her feel worse.

* * *

Finn was already waiting by her car, which was at least something, until… "Uh, after what you said sank in I got a little, um, kind of shaky, too, so I asked someone else to drive us. If you don't mind, that is."

Oh God, she just _knew_ she was going to see Puck when she looked up, "Yes I mind, Finn! What were you thinking?"

"That maybe having an adult around for this stuff wouldn't be the worst idea!" He shot back.

She looked up then, and beyond Finn she could see Mr. Schuester leaning against his own car, playing with his keys.

"You asked Mr. Schue?"

"Well, yeah. He already knows, right? And he's cool. He just wants us to be okay. I don't know why you're getting so mad about it?"

She took a quick breath and let it out slowly, "I'm not. I'm sorry, I'm just nervous. This was a good idea. Come on, let's not keep him waiting."

He relaxed when she took his hand. If only everything could be as simple.

* * *

Rachel spent most of her break looking for Quinn. Not to approach her, because that was against the rules obviously, but she'd heard from Tina that Quinn had been absent for second period, and she was worried.

She couldn't find her and was just heading to her locker to get her books for third when Jacob accosted her in the hallway. She was so used to his constant attempts to get in her pants that she just shut him down flat and walked on, but he circled around her until he was back in her face and sing-songing, "Then you'll be pleased to know this time it's not about you; it's about Quinn Fabray!"

"Whatever you've heard, she is not a lesbian!" Rachel defended automatically, trying to dodge past the slimy weasel-boy.

"That's not the word in the halls, but I have something even juicier than that! I'm talking about her little stork situation."

Rachel finally gave him her full attention, "What?"

"Rumor has it that Quinn Fabray – President of the Celibacy Club – is with child!" Jacob said, squirming in his excitement.

"That is not true!"

"So you deny it?"

"Yes, because it isn't true! And my parents happen to have very strong ties with the ACLU, so if you put any of this on your atrocious blog, I'll have you charged for slander!"

Satisfied that she had censored him, Rachel walked passed with her head held high, but she only made it a few steps before he called after her.

"Then I guess that means that my source telling me that Quinn is heartbroken because you, Rachel Berry, were not the one to impregnate her, is a lie, too?"

People had stopped to look and listen now.

She turned back around, "Of course it is!" she snapped loudly for everyone to hear, but she dropped her voice to a harsh whisper as she neared him, "Tell me what I need to do to make this go away?"

* * *

They passed in the halls between third and fourth.

"Where have you been?"

"None of your business."

* * *

"Rachel!"

Her heart pounded in her chest at hearing her name called. She'd just left school grounds during school hours without permission for the first time _ever_ and then had had a very, for lack of a better word, _yucky_ meeting with Jacob Ben Israel, and her nerves just couldn't take much more.

It was only Finn though, and she waited for him to catch up with her, "You will never guess what I saw earlier?"

She was too frazzled to even try, "What was it?"

"My baby! Or, well, it mostly just looked like a couple of blobs with an arm coming off of one of them, but it'll be a baby eventually."

Rachel wanted to be excited for him but her heart was sinking as she realized, "Quinn had her first sonogram. Was everything okay?"

"Yep, totally, no mutations and we heard the heartbeat. It was really fast, and we even –"

"Excuse me, Finn, I need to borrow Manhands for a second."

Rachel was suddenly _encouraged_ up the hall by a hand – that currently felt manlier than she imagined hers ever could – which then led her around the corner, off of the main student thoroughfare, and into a side-corridor lined with tediously identical classroom doors. Here they halted, not actually hidden from sight, but tucked out of easy view of the heavy foot traffic, and Quinn released her arm.

"Can I ask why you did that?" She felt it was a fair question considering Quinn was only breathing at her.

"Do you want to know the sex of the baby?" Quinn asked the McKinley Titans recruitment poster behind Rachel.

"I guess so," she hadn't really thought about it; as long as it was healthy nothing else mattered, did it?

"Well, do you want to hear it from me or from Finn?" she added impatiently.

"I don't…" Think it matters, she was about to say, but she knew Quinn well enough now to stop herself. "… want to hear it from anyone but you."

Quinn smiled, and then _beamed_ , before tempering it down to a smaller version again, "It's a girl!"

The gender _didn't_ matter, Rachel could see that, Quinn would have been just as excited to tell her it was a boy. It was just the simple fact of having such information about her baby that was making her grin like that.

"That's great, Quinn."

The blonde looked around and so Rachel looked around with her, but there were no lockers down here and everyone was too busy heading to their various lunch venues to glance in and notice them.

"I had my first sonogram."

"Finn told me."

Quinn closed her eyes and exhaled in that way she always seemed to do before a big admission, "It was scary."

What was she supposed to say to that? "I'm sure Finn made it better."

Quinn was able to lean back against the wall in this narrow single-purpose corridor without moving away from Rachel, but she couldn't seem to _look_ right at her now, so she stared down at her feet instead, "Yeah, he tried."

She knew it was stupid thing to say, but she couldn't think of anything she wanted to say more and so she said it anyway, "I wish I'd been there with you."

Quinn didn't look up as she murmured, "Me, too."

Perhaps not such a stupid thing to say then? Rachel felt a surge of hope, and it emboldened her to step forward, placing her hand on Quinn's arm. But as soon as the contact was made, Quinn found the strength, or anger, to meet her eyes again.

"But you threw that away!"

Rachel stepped out of the corridor to watch her go, but she knew it would be pointless to go after her. She would just have to be content with knowing how much significance Quinn had placed on being the one to share the news with her. It proved that she still cared, however much she wished she didn't. And her smile when she'd told her; that pure, radiant, just-for-her Quinn smile that could light up Rachel's whole heart in an instant, that meant something too, she was –

"Hey, I found you, and you're still in one piece! See I told you Quinn didn't hate you," Finn's voice came from behind her, catching her in the act of mooning over _his_ girlfriend, and it was nearly enough to scare the bedazzle out of her. She had to work hard not to give herself away by shrieking and clamping a hand to her chest in true dramatic fashion, "Did she want to get the notes off you for second period? She hates having to miss class. So do you wanna hear about…"

As she started to walk with him she realized she shouldn't have been worried. His excitement about the baby had made him oblivious to anything else. She could have screamed and dropped to the linoleum in a dead faint and he wouldn't have noticed. It was sweet – adorable even – and she hated that it only added to the loaded guilt across her shoulders and stopped her from enjoying this moment with him.

She listened for as long as it took him to amble half the length of the hall and then it was time to burst his bubble. She _had_ to tell him about Jacob's threats. Ideally, she should have told Quinn, but it wasn't like she'd been given the chance

"Actually, Finn…" she cut in, and explained the situation.

"You're really awesome, Rachel," he said after she had told him, basically, everything. "I promise I'll make it up to you one day."

"There's no need, Finn, honestly. We're friends and Quinn's my… my teammate; I'm happy to be able to help."

And it wasn't as if giving that sickening creep a pair of just-purchased and definitely unworn underwear even went a little way to making up for what she'd been doing behind his back recently. In fact, his earnest gratitude was just making her feel twitchy.

"Well, I'm still gonna," he promised with a heart-melting smile almost as devastating as… And before she could even finish her thought, their moment was over, "Crap, I gotta go. I'm supposed to be sitting with Quinn for lunch. See you in glee club."

He picked up his pace until he was dodging around other students to get to the cafeteria and for the second time in ten minutes Rachel just stood there with a tight-lipped frown and a lump in her throat, as she watched someone walk away from her.

With a weary sigh, she turned around, only to squeal in disgust when she found Jacob Ben Israel right behind her, close enough to touch! _Ew!_ He was waving a pair of dayglo green panties in the air.

She stepped back but he stayed with her, "What do you want now?" she demanded, batting them out of her face.

Darn, why hadn't she remembered to take the labels off? She'd just been in such a hurry to get it over with and, in hindsight, a little too pleased with her plan of buying new underwear instead of relinquishing any of her own that she'd overlooked that one small detail and now…

"I want Rachel Berry panties, the ones you are wearing right now so you can't try and trick me again."

"If you think I am taking my underwear off in school just to further your lecherous fantasies of me, you are sorely mistaken," she hissed in his face, pulling back fast when she thought he was about to take advantage and kiss her.

"It's your decision, Rachel," he chirped, squirming around like he needed to urinate. "But if you don't see through your end of the deal, the story of Quinn Fabray's out-of-wedlock bun-in-the-oven is going live this afternoon."

She glared at him, desperately wanting to call his bluff, but she knew the boy would do it. News like this would send his vile blog's hit rate off of the charts and other than tormenting her, that was all that he lived for. Quinn's pregnancy would be common knowledge by the end of the day and she would be shattered.

" _Fine!_ Stay here!"

* * *

Quinn nearly stabbed herself in the eye with her mascara when someone burst through the bathroom door so hard it slammed into the wall.

She turned to yell, but the insult died on her tongue when she saw that it was Rachel. It wasn't that much of a surprise; she'd expected to be followed when she'd walked away, but fifteen minutes had passed and now _really_ wasn't a good time.

She cast a panicked glance at the closed stall door to her left before hitting the hand-dryer on and rushing over to Rachel.

The other girl was so agitated that she didn't even seem aware that she wasn't alone until the roar of air from the hand-dryer made her look up, "Oh, hello, Quinn. I didn't know you were in here."

Jeez, and she called herself an actress? That line couldn't have sounded more fake.

"You have to go!" she insisted through gritted teeth.

"I'm afraid I can't right at this second, but if you'll give me a moment, I'll be able to get out of your hair."

"I _will_ kickyour ass, Rachel!"

"No, you won't," Rachel said distractedly as she walked deeper into the bathroom and set the garishly colored folders she'd been carrying down on the counter beside a sink.

Quinn's eyes followed warily, because short of shoving her back out of the door, there wasn't much else she could do. Rachel could surely see the closed stall now and she would realize they weren't alone, which would surely be enough to stop her from making her planned – and probably practiced – attempt to get her back.

 _Please? You can have me back if you just leave before that door opens!_ Except Rachel never looked up to notice the occupied stall because she was too busy looking down and fumbling _under_ her skirt.

"Rachel!" she squeaked, she couldn't help it, because Rachel had her hands _under her_ _skirt_.

"There's no need to be alarmed, this isn't for you. Well, not in the sense that you have reason to be alarmed, anyway."

She supposed Rachel was trying to be comforting, but she didn't hear the words properly because Rachel was pulling her underwear down her thighs and Quinn's eyes were so wide they were blocking off her ears or something.

"Rachel!" Another squeak, or more of a horrified gasp.

Well _a_ gasp anyway. Rachel was… her mouth had gone dry and her brain was cloudy with… _thoughts…_ but she had just enough control to harshly whisper, "Berry, we're broken up, remember? And even if we weren't, this would _not_ be appropriate!"

"Relax, Quinn," she said, as she stepped out of her freaking _panties_.

Plain white panties – boring, nothing sexy about them at all… except, well, everything! Relax? Yeah, okay, sure, that was possible. In an alternate dimension!

"Rachel," she breathed, face burning, her whole body felt like it was actually. She was two seconds away from undermining everything she'd said, ever, and pushing Rachel back against the door and kissing her, when the noise from the hand-dryer cut off.

The sudden absence of it blaring air brought her back to herself a little and only just in time, because the stall door opened almost simultaneously.

Rachel was just straightening up, panties in her hand, when Santana emerged and stopped dead to stare at the scene before her. After a moment, she crossed her arms and leaned back against the partition between the stalls.

"Well, it looks like I caught you two red-faced and panty-handed. Still gonna deny you got a thing for the troll, Q?" Her expression, even her voice, was unreadable and so she had no idea what Santana was thinking right now, except for the worst, obviously.

And the very worst thing, in a whole world of bad things, was that Rachel didn't seem the slightest bit bothered that they'd been caught doing whatever it was Rachel had planned on them doing.

That, _and_ the fact that they were broken up, _and_ the fact that – after her attack yesterday – Rachel definitely owed her a freebie, fuelled Quinn's reaction.

"I have no idea what she's doing. She just stormed in here and took her underwear off in front of me. And now I'm going to be psychologically scarred for the rest of my life."

"Yeah, sure."

"No, she is telling the truth, Santana. That is exactly what I did. And, I also believe Quinn getting close to my underwear would indeed cause psychological impairment. At least, that's the impression I've been given in the past," and with that dig, she spun on her heel – panties fluttering like a flag before she balled them in her fist – and said, "Now if you'll excuse me, ladies, I have an errand to run before class."

As the door closed slowly behind her, Quinn moved back to the sinks to finish touching up her make-up.

"Did that shit really just happen?"

She met Santana's eyes in the mirror, "Apparently."

"And she really wasn't here to get her freak on with you?"

"San, if I was having some kind of weird lesbo affair with _anyone_ , but especially Berry, do you honestly think I'd risk a tryst in a bathroom at school? And when you're in here, too?"

"You're right; you are way too much of a prude for that," Santana finally pushed off of the panel and came to wash her hands.

* * *

Rachel was back at her locker at the end of lunch. She'd never found time to actually eat anything but that was okay because she had no appetite anyway. After her third nauseating meeting with Jacob Ben Israel in one day, she wasn't sure she'd eat again for a week.

She tried to stand still and concentrate on her locker but there was a breeze blowing through the halls today and all of it seemed to be blowing up her skirt! Under other circumstances it might have been arousing, but right now it was just another disturbing reminder that her life truly… blew.

Finally getting the door open, she was surprised to find a note waiting on top of her books. She hadn't expected to get one of these again, and she quickly flicked it open with her thumb.

 _I am seriously hoping you've put your underwear back on already, but in case not, if anyone drops a pencil in front of you, do_ _not_ _pick it up. And if Puck approaches you at any point,_ _run away_ _. Actually that applies across the board._ _Trust no one_ _._

 _And put your damn panties back on, Rachel!_

She heeded the first part of the note and grinned at the second because Quinn's written jealousy was palpable. Her grin dropped soon enough, though. If only she could! It wasn't like she wanted to spend her next two classes and glee without underwear! She was feeling extremely uncomfortable already.

It was worth it though, because Jacob had been satisfied that her panties were still warm – yuck! – and had promised not to run the story about Quinn's pregnancy.

It was a sacrifice Quinn would never know about, but that was okay, too.

"Hey, Rachel!"

She turned automatically, because people calling her by her first name was a rarity that afforded a response.

Puck slapped his hand down on the books and folders in her hands without slowing down, sending them scattering across the floor.

 _Fudge!_

* * *

"Asshole!" Finn muttered beside her and then looked guilty puppy when she glanced at him.

She looked over to see what had caused his reaction and then rolled her eyes, because _for crying out loud, Finn_! But at the same time, there were Berry's books strewn all around her feet and any second she was going to have to bend down and get them… and in that skirt, even squatting could be obscene.

She nudged her boyfriend's arm, "Well, go and help her then. You know you want to."

"Uh…"

She put on her most frustrated girlfriend voice, "Just go and do it, Finn, if you _have_ to."

* * *

Rachel was planning out the best way to keep herself covered while retrieving her books when Finn appeared in front of her.

"Hey, Rach, I'll get those for you."

As he gallantly dropped to his knees, Rachel slapped a hand to the front of her skirt and stepped back quickly.

"Thank you, Finn!"

Glancing as casually as she could – while he was down there! – over Finn's head, she caught Quinn's eye, who looked beyond annoyed as she mouthed, _You're welcome!_

Rachel couldn't help but smirk at her, but she kept her knees pressed tight together all the same.

* * *

Glee was terrible.

The piano was missing and it was only the five of them, and Quinn was having to try _really_ hard not to notice the way Rachel's skirt swished up every time she twirled as she paced angrily in front of the risers.

"This is completely unacceptable! We have Sectionals in six weeks. Six weeks, Mr. Schue!"

"I'm aware of that Rachel, but there's nothing I can do about it this afternoon."

"How are we supposed to practice without a piano?"

Quinn frowned as Rachel did another about-turn right in front of her and then decided it was better to just turn in her chair and face the other way, towards the wall where the band stored their instruments that were too big to be easily carried around.

"Why don't we use the keyboard for now?"

Rachel stopped stomping to look at her thoughtfully, and Quinn waved in its direction.

"I don't know," said Finn, "the band gets kind of mad when people touch their instruments. They hardly ever let me near their drum set."

"And besides, that guy with the beard ain't even here," Puck interjected, "So who's gonna play it?"

"I can totally play chopsticks with my feet," Brittany informed them, "Tom Hanks taught me."

Finn looked impressed, "Really? That's awesome, how do you know Tom Hanks?"

Brittany looked confused, "I don't."

"Everybody, _please_ concentrate! We do not have time to go off on tangents!"

"Look, the band geeks never need to know, considering they're curiously absent too, and I can play the keyboard if I have the music in front of me –"

"That's another problem, Quinn," Mr. Schue said, tiredly. "All of our sheet music is gone, too."

Of course it had; Coach Sylvester didn't do things by halves.

"Okay, here's what we'll do. Finn, go grab the portable stereo from my office. I have _It Takes Two_ burned on to a CD. You guys will just have to sing over the original voices for now."

"We're still doing that song?" she asked, "How? There's only five of us."

"We'll just have to figure something out."

"He's right," Rachel said with as much positivity as she could muster, "We've worked too hard on this routine to just abandon it, and we don't have time to learn something that could be anywhere near as good as this has the potential to be."

"This has the potential to be _nothing_ ," she argued. "It's good with twelve of us, I agree, but with five of us? What?" she turned back to Mr. Schue, "Are we just going to stand in a line while Berry uses us as her personal stripper poles?"

He looked so lost and so out of his depth, that if he hadn't been so good about taking them to the clinic earlier, she would have openly laughed at him. But seriously, how Coach hadn't already crushed him under her Adidas sneakers was a total mystery.

"Well, she's already got the stripping part down, so I hear," Puck leered and Brittany grinned, giving him a high-five. Santana had obviously been gossiping with them since lunch.

"What are you talking about? Rachel's not a stripper."

Puck laughed at Finn's confusion, but thankfully didn't elaborate because Rachel was already blushing so hard that her face would turn a slushie facial into a steam bath.

"My point is, it's not going to work. We have to come up with another song for Sectionals. We need to learn something from scratch, something that's just for the five of us."

"There isn't time, Quinn!" Rachel was nearly screeching now and if there was one good side to all of this, it was that while Frantic-Muppet-Rachel was sometimes cute and amusing, she _wasn't_ in any way sexy. So, it was easy to tune her out until she'd squared her shoulders and made a concerted effort to calm down, "Okay, here's what we are going to do: Mr. Schuester, I propose that Quinn – as the second shortest female here – joins me in dancing along the line, while Noah, Brittany, and Finn – in that order – remain the line. Quinn is right; it won't be as good, but it does mean we can keep the main choreography more or less intact. Noah, Quinn, and Brittany can divvy up the lyrics that were previously assigned to Kurt, Mercedes, and Artie."

Brittany bounced in her seat and clapped her hands once, "Yay, I get to sing a solo."

"Well, it will still be mine and Finn's duet, but you _will_ get a few lines of the backing vocals to yourself now, yes," Rachel said graciously, pleased to have such enthusiastic support.

"That actually sounds like a really good idea, Rachel," Mr. Schue perked up, "You two could go through twice and that way we can still make the sequence last through the whole chorus." He moved to the white board and started to draw circles, crosses and arrows as he spoke, "If Quinn goes through first, and you came in as she reaches Finn… and then we go back the other way… that way, Puck will be releasing you just in time for your next cue."

As he and Rachel continued to jabber excitedly by the board, Finn got up to join them to put in his thoughts, and Quinn started thinking, too.

So now she wouldn't be dancing with Rachel? They would have no interaction with each other at all during the number. It was probably a good thing, all things considered, yet it just felt incredibly… disappointing. Only because she'd put so much _work_ into being able to do this choreography with Rachel in the first place and she was not going to have all of the discomfort she'd gone through wasted. And why should Rachel get to make the decision of whether or not they danced together, anyway? She'd been calling the shots for far too long.

"No," No one took notice of her until stood up, "No! I'm not doing it that way."

Rachel turned to her, "But Quinn –"

She cut her off, "No, I'm not just being difficult. I'm not leaping on Finn and Puck and being spun around. What if I fall? It's not safe."

"Oh," Finn looked sheepish over his previous excitement, "Quinn's right. Rachel's part is kinda full on, stunt-wise."

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes over the thought that _any_ of their choreography could be considered an actual stunt only because he was backing her up. Unfortunately, Rachel was on the same wavelength as her, "You wouldn't be worried about this if it was for the Cheerios and those routines are far more dangerous."

"Yes, well, I trust my squad to catch me no matter what. I can't say the same for these two."

Rachel put her hands on her hips, ready to argue, but Brittany spoke first.

"No, really, she's right. You have no idea how many trust exercises Coach Sylvester makes us do and, no offense Mr. Schue, but you've never made us do any."

"So, what do you suggest, Quinn?" he asked, while no doubt making a mental note to look up trust exercizes on the internet as soon as he had a minute.

"I'll switch with Brittany."

"Okay, I'm happy with that."

"Me too, but I still get to sing, right?"

"I'm not!"

"Too bad, Rachel, that's the way it's going to be or I'm out altogether."

Rachel glared at her before realizing she wasn't going to win this, "Fine, but I hope you know you're going to look ridiculous trying to tuck Brittany in when she's almost a head taller than you."

"No, that's okay, I can totally make it work," Brittany promised, earning her a smile from Quinn and a scowl from Rachel.

Mr. Schue clapped his hands together, "Okay, let's give it a go!"

Finn had already plugged the stereo in to the wall socket and Rachel took the proffered CD and placed it in the deck before hitting play.

"Right, from the top, guys! Puck, get ready to catch Brittany and then Rachel…"

"Hell, yeah I'm ready! _You_ ready to wrap those luscious barelegs tight around my hips, Berry?"

Rachel paled as Puck made one of the most obscene pelvic thrusts that Quinn had ever seen in her direction, and she'd _had sex_ with the guy.

"I don't think we should do the lifts today," unless she got to lift Rachel too, and _first_ , and, well, _only_.

"Why's that, Quinn?" Mr. Schuester asked.

"Yeah, why's that, Quinn?" Puck echoed in a tone that clearly said, _Why-are-you-spoiling-my-fun-Quinn?_

Because she didn't want Rachel's bare _anything_ getting that close to him! Or Finn, for that matter.

"It's only fair Brittany has as much chance to get used to the timing as Berry has had. Otherwise we're going to be all over the place."

Rachel nodded frantically, "Quinn is right. Also we should concentrate on making sure everyone is lyrically and melodically perfect in the parts they are now singing. Spectacular choreography means nothing, after all, if one of them bungles the words of the song."

"I suppose you're right. Okay, we'll go back to how we were doing it before until we're up to speed."

Puck's grumbled disappointment covered Quinn's sigh of relief, and then Rachel hit play again, drowning them both out with the opening chords.

* * *

It went surprisingly smoothly from there and Brittany _did_ make it work when she reached Quinn, by bending her legs as she was twirled and dropping her head to Quinn's shoulder as they turned together. It would have looked even better with their positions reversed, as Rachel had suggested, but she had to admit it was okay and didn't come across as awkward or clumsy.

Stepping up, she took Noah's hands as she had so many times before now, but unlike before – when he usually just ignored her – he took the opportunity to pull her in close as they spun together and whispered something filthy in her ear.

"Noah Puckerman, my undergarments are none of your business!"

He laughed as he released her, leaving her still mentally spinning as his crude enquiry slithered around her brain like a greased snake. Although she had to admit, as uninvited as such comments were, it was more tantalizing to hear them from _Puck_ than from Jacob Ben Israel.

Stunned as she was, the true performer in her didn't let her miss a step and she was turning, turning and taking Quinn's hand without really being aware of it. Until she was actually holding said hand anyway, and then, as always, she was very aware of it.

Quinn twirled her around and then drew her in close. It was all part of the dance, and Quinn didn't look very happy about it, but Rachel could only feel content as her arm curled around the blonde's neck.

"Hi," she breathed, smiling up nervously as they turned together.

"What did he say to you?" Quinn snapped at a volume low enough to be lost to the others beneath the music.

"I'd rather not repeat it."

"Why did you do it, Rachel?" was the next growled question.

"Why does anyone commit foolish, impulsive acts, Quinn?"

Quinn, as well-practiced in this as she was, twirled her away towards Finn instinctively but the look on her face told Rachel she hadn't wanted to and the questions evident in her eyes made her forget she now had a line to sing.

Until Rachel glared at her as she turned with Finn.

"Uh… _it takes two, baby_!" Quinn finally sang out, several beats too late.

It threw everyone off and Mr. Schue called for them to stop.

"Sorry," Quinn muttered to him, glaring back at Rachel.

"It's okay," he waved them back to their starting positions. "It's bound to take a few tries before you're all confident with your new parts."

"While that's true," Rachel couldn't help herself, "You do only have three lines, _Quinn_ , so I hope it doesn't take you too long to learn your cues."

"Jeez, _Rachel_ , I won't let it happen again so keep your damn panties on! Oh wait…"

Puck snorted and Brittany giggled and Rachel… well, Rachel _glared_ as Quinn looked smug.

"Seriously, guys, what joke am I missing?"

Rachel took Finn's arm, leading them both back to the other side of the room, "There is no joke, Quinn is merely lashing out childishly because she is threatened by my superior ability to –"

Quinn snapped her fingers, "Puck!"

"Finally!" The boy lunged for the hem of her skirt.

Seeing him coming Rachel squealed, "Quinn!" and jumped back behind Finn for protection.

"Okay, settle down," Mr. Schuester called them back to order, "and let's try this again."

"Come on, Finn," Rachel took his hand as Brittany skipped over to reset the CD player and, with a pointed glance in Quinn's direction, tagged on, "Let's show them how a real love duet is performed."

They began again and if Rachel was a little more demonstrative of their lyrical love than usual as they sang the first verse – eye-contact that lingered for longer, her fingers grazing the back of his hand, his hip, even his jaw as they moved around the room singing to each other, giving a swat to his butt that made him laugh and catch her in his long arms for a few seconds as _punishment_ – well, it was simply perfect showmanship… and if Quinn was bothered by it, she only had herself to blame.

* * *

They'd spent so much time feeling sorry for themselves at the beginning of the session, that there had only been time for one full run though of the new routine. Something Quinn would be eternally grateful for, because talk about awkward… and infuriating.

Rachel's behavior…

Quinn let the thought go with a shake of her head as she gathered her stuff and prepared to leave the choir room. Everyone else had already left, including Mr. Schue, the latter vowing to find the piano before tomorrow's session.

Good luck with that.

"I have to stay for football practice, but I can walk you to your car first, if you want."

She turned to smile up at Finn, "That's okay. I need to go to the bathroom, anyway, and then my locker. I don't want to make you late."

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow. This morning was really awesome, by the way," she nodded and returned his smile, but once again deflected his lips to her cheek. He didn't seem to mind, though, and after straightening up, he directed his attention over her head, "See ya tomorrow, Rach."

"Goodbye, Finn."

Crap, she'd assumed – because she couldn't see or hear her for once – that Rachel had left when Brittany and Puck had! Quinn collected her bag and shrugged into her letterman jacket as quickly as she could, planning to walk with Finn after all, but by the time she was ready, he was gone.

Crap!

She _could_ just stroll right out of here anyway though, right? Nothing was stopping her.

"Quinn?"

She didn't _have_ to let that stop her.

She wasn't moving, though.

"I wasn't propositioning you earlier."

"I don't care what you were doing, just don't ever do it in front of me again."

"Please let me explain."

"Didn't you hear me? I don't care. If you want to be a slut and walk around school with no underwear on, it's _really_ none of my business anymore. I don't know why I ever wanted it to be my business in the first place."

"You don't mean that."

"I do."

Prepared to let that be her last word, she took a step towards the door. Faster footsteps came from behind her and then Rachel put herself in her way. Side-stepping with Quinn to _stay_ in the way.

"Let me pass."

"This doesn't have to be over."

"Yes it does! You made it perfectly clear yesterday that I'm not _good enough_ for you."

"I never said that!"

"Yes you did, Rachel! A pregnant, closeted bully? Why would you want to be with me? And why would I want to be with someone who thinks so little of me?"

Rachel was fighting back tears and Quinn was pleased that she was too angry right now to be suffering with the same battle.

"I _do_ want to be with you."

"Well, too bad, because all I want to do now is clean up the mess you've made of my life and move on."

"So, this is about your reputation again?"

"What else do I have?"

"Me! Screw your damn reputation," Rachel's yell was contorted by a sob.

"I did screw my reputation, and for what? So you could throw it back in my face and make it all worth _nothing_? I am a step away from being _obliterated_ out there," she said, pointing furiously towards the door. "Do you get that? I know you don't care because you're already a zero in this place, but can't you at least understand why I do?"

"I do understand. Of course I understand. Just because everyone… just because _you_ thinkI'm a zero, doesn't mean I haven't always longed to be just as popular as you are, Quinn!"

"I _don't_ think you're a…" No, she wasn't going to let Rachel guilt her and make this all about her issues _again, "Fine,_ in that case you know exactly how much I've risked already for you and it still isn't enough. For God's sake, Rachel! I can't shower after gym class, I can't walk down the hall without people whispering about me, and the Cheerios are ready to overthrow me as captain because having a _dyke_ on the squad is bad enough, but one who wants to get it on with _Manhands_? They value their reputations too and they aren't going to put up with a captain who doesn't make them look good."

Rachel was openly crying now, although they were the silent kind that just made her face wet and her eyes red and her voice hitch as she said, "And, of course, they're more important than me."

"No! They weren't! That's why I'm where I am now, you _freaking_ idiot! But you can't say the same. Your stupid pro and con list _is_ more important than me, you said so yesterday. You're hiding behind it because you're too scared to just trust me and that's the difference between us. I jumped when the time came and _you_ didn't!"

She wasn't going to find a better parting shot and she couldn't watch Rachel cry for another second without turning into a blubbering mess right along with her. She wasn't impeded when she stepped around the other girl this time, at least not physically.

"I'll jump now. I'll jump right this minute. I'm ready."

Quinn closed her eyes as she dug into her reserves of will-power, "It's too late. You don't get a second chance."

"Not even after all of the chances I've given you?"

"I'm not you," she said simply.

"Quinn, please?" Rachel whispered, sounding truly broken for the first time in their conversation.

She paused at the door without looking back; she couldn't look back, "Rachel, it's over. The sooner you accept that, the better it'll be for both of us."

"You're making a mistake."

"No, I'm just fixing the mistake that I already made," she said flippantly as she pushed through the doors and into a corridor that was already blurred around the edges by her tears.


	10. Chapter 10

Sorry I've been gone so long; I've had a lot going on.

 **Chapter Ten – Sixteeen With An Attitude.**

The first thing Rachel did on Wednesday morning was find Mr. Schuester. It wasn't too hard because – for once – he was in his choir room office, grading papers.

"Do you really think it's fair to expect us students to complete our homework in a timely fashion, when you teachers can't even do the same?"

He looked up, surprised by her voice; in fact, he appeared far from alert altogether. He looked even wearier when he realized it was her and he dropped tired eyes back to his desk, "Oh, hey, Rachel. You got an A+." He shuffled through his "marked" pile and then handed over her homework, "I'll see you later."

"That's not why I'm here," she took the seat on the other side of his desk without waiting to be asked – because all too often teachers didn't ask and she'd learned to work around it, "I want to speak about Glee club. More specifically, what we can do to counteract Coach Sylvester's efforts to create disharmony within the group."

Although annoyed when she had first sat down, he now sat up straighter, running a hand back through his hair, "Actually, I've been thinking the same thing. I spent most of last night thinking about it, it's why I'm so behind on these." He indicated the papers in front of him with his pen.

"We need to hit back, hit Coach Sylvester where it hurts, so hard that she knows she can't mess with us like this!"

Mr. Schuester gave a little chuckle, "I whole-heartedly agree, Rachel, but I don't think it's appropriate for me to be discussing my revenge tactics with you."

She could tell he was both joking and serious, but that wasn't good enough for her.

"Mr. Schue, I am every bit as committed to this club as you are, and therefore, in this instance while the very existence of Glee club hangs in the balance, I demand that you treat me as an equal."

"Okay, I'll try," he said slowly, and he looked too frightened by her assertiveness to just be humoring her, "I've managed to locate the piano. Sue sent it to be steam-cleaned." Rachel actually approved of that but she didn't say so. "It'll be back by lunchtime…"

"Good, then I propose we call an extra session during lunch hour to make up for the time we lost yesterday."

"If everyone's available, I'm okay with that. I'm still not sure how to "hit Coach Sylvester where it hurts" though. I mean she has the rules on her side and…"

Rachel's eyes had drifted down to the papers on his desk and she was an expert at reading upside. What she saw made her zone out on him, before interrupting, "Wait, are you giving Charity a C+?"

"Uh, yeah, why?"

"Because I can see from here that she's mixed up her tenses for every single answer and this one –" she stabbed her finger at question five "—isn't even written in Spanish! If I'd known we were allowed to answer the questions in English, I could have saved myself at least fifteen minutes of preparation time."

"You're not allowed to answer in English," he was back to being weary again, "But Charity is… well, she doesn't have as good of a grasp on the language as you do."

Rachel looked at the paper again, "Does she have _any_ grasp of it?"

He gathered the binder sheets together and set them aside so that she couldn't see them anymore, "Rachel, be nice. Not everyone–"

"Applies themselves to their lessons with as much vigor as I do, which, if I understand the student/learning relationship at all, means that not everyone should be attaining passing grades. It's simple; if you don't put the work in, you shouldn't get the reward."

He was exasperated with her now, but that wasn't anything she wasn't used to, "Rachel, she pays attention in class, always turns in her homework on time. I'm not going to…"

"Flunk her because her work is subpar? How is she supposed to know she needs to improve? By allowing Charity to think she is doing better than she is, you are failing her as an educator, Mr. Schuester!"

He stared at her thoughtfully, "You're right."

"Of course I'm right. Do you think I would be half the singer I am now if my second grade music teacher hadn't pointed out that I was going flat on the second verse of _Mary Had A Little Lamb_?"

"I guess not," he blacked out the C+ at the top of Charity's paper and then after a moment of hesitation, scribbled in an F in red pen.

He looked upset, so she offered, "You're doing her a favor in the long-term by forcing her to study harder."

He stared down at the paper for a beat, "Hey, Charity is a cheerleader, right?"

"Yes."

He flicked back through the papers, "And so are Amber and Kassie and Sarah and Jonah and Ricky?"

She had to think for a second, putting the names to the Cheerios uniforms, but… "Yes, I believe so. Why?"

"I may have up-graded them all."

She liked where he was going with this, but she couldn't condone _grade-related_ deceit, not even for the sake of Glee club, "Really, you're sure?"

"Ricky's answer to question three –"

" _When should I be expected for dinner_?" Rachel quoted from memory.

He read from the paper, "Is: _Time when want food_?"

She grinned, "Oh dear."

"Exactly. And Brittany's response was…"

"No! You can't flunk Brittany! Principal Figgins might say she's not eligible for Glee club either and we're already down to five people!"

"Rachel, if I have to do this I will, but I'm not happy about applying double standards."

"Do you honestly think Coach Sylvester isn't playing dirty?"

Mr. Schuester sighed but left Brittany's grade as a C, "Okay, you better get going, classes start in a few minutes. And not a word about this to anyone, Rachel."

Like she was going to tell anyone she'd just contributed to flunking half of the Cheerios! Quinn was going to be beside herself with fury. So it was just as well they'd already agreed to not let the war between Glee and the Cheerios affect them.

She just had to hope that was still the same now that they weren't together anymore.

* * *

There had been no Facebook contact from Rachel the night before. For which Quinn had told herself she was grateful. She'd had to tell herself a lot, but not being bombarded by messages _was_ a good thing; it gave her a brief break from dealing that she'd sorely needed.

She didn't think the silence would last long though, surely Rachel would make another attempt to talk her around. She had faith in herself that she could stand her ground under pressure and stay firmly opposed to anything Rachel might do to change her mind. Because it was in her best interests and Quinn could overcome anything if it was in her own best interests – she just had to look in the mirror for her proof. Talking her father and the doctors into giving her a nose-job at thirteen should have been the one insurmountable obstacle in her quest to become a different person, and yet she had accomplished it. And if she could do that, she could do anything.

She imagined Rachel going to her dads at thirteen and telling them she wanted cosmetic surgery on her nose… they _never_ would have allowed it. They wouldn't even let her give up _dairy_ until she was eighteen.

She shouldn't be thinking about Rachel! She should only be thinking about taking her books out of her locker and heading to class. Rachel was bad news; she was kryptonite; she was…

…walking down the crowded hall to her own locker!

' _Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop… Why didn't she stop?'_

Quinn subtly shifted on her toes so that her body was slightly facing the other way and she could see Rachel's locker out of the corner of her eye.

Rachel opened the metal door and placed a couple of books inside, took one out, and then pushed in a white plastic bag. A spare outfit? Or _another_ spare outfit, because she always brought fresh spare clothes at the start of the school week and it was only Wednesday. Quinn knew she hadn't been slushied in the last two days. She was obviously preparing for an all-out attack today.

Quinn didn't feel guilty, because she knew _she_ wouldn't be the one throwing the slushies at her – she didn't want revenge, she just wanted to move on – and it wasn't her problem anymore if Santana or anyone else took it upon themselves to "ice" the girl.

Rachel appeared completely oblivious to the fact that she was being watched as she tidied things in her locker, pulled out a pink folder to look through the contents before putting it back in, and then bent _just a little_ at the waist to check her reflection in the mirror on the inside of the door.

Quinn's gaze dropped to the hem of her skirt as she did so, wondering if there was any more clothing under there today. As her thoughts caught up with her, she felt color rise in her cheeks and then she jumped with a squeak when a shoulder connected with the lockers on her other side.

She turned her head reluctantly fearing Santana, only it was worse.

"Finn said you went to the obstetrician yesterday?" Puck knew the word obstetrician? He read her mind and rolled his eyes, "My mom's a ped's nurse. Just 'cause Finn can't even pronounce the word doesn't mean I don't know shit, okay?"

She smiled, "He thought the OB/GYN was a kind of Storm Trooper."

He chuckled for a moment, before looking serious again, "So, how was it? I mean, everything's okay, right?"

She didn't want to talk to him about this, especially not in the hall when so many people were around, but he looked so concerned.

So she whispered, "Everything's fine. She's healthy and everything."

There was nothing for a moment and then his face was overtaken by a smile. Not a leer or a grin or a smirk, but a real _smile_ , "She?"

She felt a twinge of something in her chest as she smiled back and nodded. It hadn't been there in the doctor's office with Finn and, sure, it was only half the twinge she'd experienced when she'd been telling Rachel, but it was still something she both wasn't expecting and wasn't ready for.

"Uh, yeah, it's a girl," she muttered, "I have to get to class."

It was only when she was seated and pulling her books out of her bag – or _trying_ to pull out her books anyway – that she realized she'd never actually gotten around to taking them out of her locker.

It was going to be another long day, but at least Rachel seemed to be heeding her request and staying out of her way.

"Are you going to cry? I have some tissues if you need them."

"I'm not going to cry!" She shot a terse glance at Brittany and pulled her friend's textbook into the middle of the desk, "We're sharing."

* * *

In the brief break between morning classes, Rachel watched Quinn go straight from her classroom to the bathroom across the hall. Good. If her morning sickness was bad today it made this the perfect opportunity to approach her. She came with a two-sided attack, after all. Herself and what she was about to take out of her locker.

She didn't rush in like a fool though, she waited until she saw Santana and Brittany walk out of the main doors to enjoy the bright sunshine outside for a few minutes, and _then_ she rushed in, charging through the bathroom door and halfway to the stalls before she realized that Quinn was standing at the sinks.

"Oh, hi."

Quinn actually groaned out loud when she saw her in the mirror, and it wasn't a happy groan, "If you take your underwear off, I _will_ flush your head in one of these toilets!"

"That won't be necessary," she walked the line of stalls, making doubly sure they were alone. "I thought you might have been feeling sick so I came to…"

"Do what, Berry? The exact thing I asked you not to?"

"To make you feel better," she finished quietly.

Quinn glared at her in the mirror, but then she turned and her expression was much gentler once they were facing each other, "Don't do that anymore. Please?"

"I'm not going to stop caring for your well-being just because we're not together, Quinn."

"I'd prefer it if you did."

Rachel hesitated before striding forward, "Well, you don't get to decide that any more than I do. _Are_ you feeling unwell? You're looking a little pale."

"I'm fine," Quinn turned back to the mirrors, "I just had another sleepless night in a long line of sleepless nights."

"So you're not…"

"About to throw up on your shoes? No." Quinn glanced down, "Which I'm sorry about, because it could only improve those penny loafers."

Rachel sighed but didn't rise to the bait, "I have something for you."

"I don't want it."

"You don't even know what it is."

"The last time you opened with that line you gave me a towel that completely skewed my entire life. I can't handle you doing that again."

Rachel smiled, because Quinn couldn't have made a better comparison, "Stop being such a drama queen!"

That earned her the reflection of a raised eyebrow and Rachel chuckled as she pulled the white plastic carrier from her book bag. Quinn's other eyebrow rose to join its partner and she turned away from the mirror again, "Don't even think about getting changed in front of me!"

"I wasn't! Why would I be getting changed, anyway?"

"I… don't know. What's in the bag?"

"I'm glad you asked," she smiled tentatively, "It's a token of my affection. I'm not trying to change your mind," she added quickly. "I _know_ it's over, you don't have to worry about that, it's just something I wanted you to have, regardless of everything else."

She pulled the cashmere scarf from the bag and pushed it into Quinn's hands.

"Rachel…"

"I washed it this morning and, well, I'll wash it again as often as you want me to. We can work out a system so that the exchange is never detected –"

"Rachel, I can't take this."

"Yes you can," Rachel skipped back to the bathroom door before Quinn had a chance to hand it back. "Cashmere is kind of a gray area for me, anyway. I find it hard to reconcile my need for warmth with that of the goat's, who to the best of my goat knowledge, probably lives on the side of mountain somewhere and therefore would surely have more need of his coat than I do," she forced herself to pause when she realized she was rambling, "But if you'll feel more comfortable seeing this as a business transaction, then I'll gladly accept Grumpy Bear back. I would _like_ him back, for sentimental reasons, as something to remember our wonderful – if brief – time together, but that's completely up to you. I won't bother you again… although Mr. Schuester has requested we have a Glee club meeting at lunch in the Choir room and it _would_ be helpful if you were there."

"I don't know. Coach is on one of her rampages this morning. I might have to be on the field at lunch."

"Please, Quinn, we need you. We're already down to five people."

"And my squad is down to three! I mean, yeah, it makes for a much nicer team environment for _me_ right now, but our competition season starts _next week_ and you can't form a pyramid with only three people! At least, not a good one."

Rachel bit her bottom lip and ducked her head to hide her smile from the ranting Head Cheerio. Mr. Schuester had certainly moved fast – which was impressive, really – she hadn't expected to see any results until at least the following day.

"Rachel?" Quinn's stern tone pulled her head up automatically, "What did you do?"

Damn it, she'd given herself away somehow! There was no proof of her involvement, though, and so no reason she should let Quinn's _inquisitor_ eyes crack her open and make her spill any confessions.

"I did nothing at all, Quinn. I cannot be held accountable for the combination of low IQ's and air-headedness, seemingly inherent to the common McKinley cheerleader, which has led to the unfortunate consequences the Cheerios are facing at this time."

"So, you know nothing about academic ineligibility?"

"I can honestly say that I don't. I am a model student and thoroughly apply myself to all areas of learning, and my grades reflect as much."

Quinn's eyes narrowed further, "Rachel!"

She grinned nervously and pulled the door open; Quinn was less likely to attack her if there was a view to the outside world.

"Anyway, I've taken up enough of your time. If I don't see you in the Choir room at lunch I hope you have a pleasant rest of the day."

Deciding to quit while she had the last word, she gave Quinn one last nod and then fled the room.

* * *

Quinn watched the door close slowly behind Rachel's hasty departure, wondering whether or not to go after her and demand to know what she knew. She was almost angry enough to do it, but that voice inside her head – the only one keeping her sane – pointed out that a confrontation with Rachel Berry in the school halls was really _not_ in her best interest.

It would be misconstrued, intentionally by some and accidentally by others, and before lunch period even began, everyone would be talking about their "lover's tiff." She didn't need that right now; actually, she didn't need that _ever_ , but especially not when just hearing her name in the same sentence as Rachel's made her feel like crying. It was crazy but – fear of being caught not-withstanding – it was easier to hear the rumors about the two of them together when there was some basis of truth in it. At least then the looks, the whispers, the sneers, _all_ of the bad stuff, was a little bit worth it. Now she was just suffering for a crime she wasn't even committing.

She looked down at the scarf; the one calling her a liar.

It wasn't as if she'd asked for it though, and she didn't even want it! It was just a reminder of what she _didn't_ have. And like she _wanted_ to be surrounded by the smell of Rachel now, anyway. It would be pure freaking torture.

The cream cashmere was _so_ soft beneath her fingers as she gripped it, squeezing it in frustration. How dare Rachel force something like this on her? Grumpy Bear was a meaningless cheap toy, but this scarf was expensive and it was important to Rachel _and_ it was significant to _them,_ having played its part in bringing them together. It was a low blow and she had no doubt that Rachel had known exactly what she was doing.

Even if she hadn't analyzed her own motives as much as Quinn was – which she would have done, for sure – she still would know the impact that this particular _token of affection_ would have. She was giving Quinn the one thing she'd needed, craved even, that Rachel had been holding back before. This scarf wasn't just an olive branch; it was a pledge of faith, in her, in them. It was forgiveness and trust and a promise. It was like… it was like she was holding Rachel's symbolic virginity in her hands or something!

' _Gross!'_

She turned to the trash can against the tiled wall and prepared to shoot the scarf towards it. Wait, what was she doing? She couldn't just throw Rachel's scarf away, that would be senseless and petty.

She should put it on _EBay!_

The price it could fetch might even cover five minutes of the twenty she'd spent having her ultrasound.

She gathered it back in her hands, enjoying the luxurious feel of the wool. Closing her eyes, she brought it up to her face, rubbing her cheeks with it as she breathed in Rachel's scent. It could only have been better if Rachel had worn it for a while after washing it. It was almost enough to make her wish her morning sickness was active so that she had an excuse to give in and wear it, but it wasn't and she couldn't.

Instead, she folded it back up and put it in her bag. She'd give it back to Rachel later, as soon as she got the chance.

* * *

Her confrontation with Finn after third period had her wanting to throw the scarf in the trash again!

"I just wish sometimes you could be more like Rachel! Like, she cares about my feelings and stuff!"

Quinn scoffed at the boy, "Oh really?"

Right, Rachel cared about him _so much_ she'd tried seducing his girlfriend yesterday!

"Yeah," he returned forcefully, "Do you know she actually gave that Jacob kid a pair of her underpants yesterday just so he wouldn't tell the whole school you were pregnant?"

"Oh, and do you honestly think there wasn't something in it for her?"

"What could she have…?"

Something important cut through her anger, "Wait, what did you just say?"

"That Rachel is a good person and she–"

"No! About her underwear?"

He explained and her face drained of all color, and then it came back, turning her cheeks bright pink.

' _Oh, shit.'_

Rachel had actually done _that…_ for her? And then she'd jumped to the wrong conclusion and been a total bitch.

"Look, Finn, I know some guys cheat on their pregnant wives or girlfriends, but just _don't_ do it with her!" she warned strongly before whirling away.

There, the frightened look in his guilty eyes should keep him in check for a while longer. She just had to hope it was long enough for her to make things up to Rachel, again.

* * *

No one was more surprised than Rachel was when she was made a volleyball captain again – except for maybe everyone else, too.

She'd been thrilled with the power on Monday but today she didn't want it. She actually wanted to be one of those girls standing anxiously in a line waiting for their name to be called. Because this pressure was just too much.

The other captain today was, of all people, Kassie and that was making life really difficult. The flunked Cheerio had already picked Santana, Brittany, Reena, and Charity. Lining up beside Rachel were Mercedes, Tina, Jennifer, and Bernadette. They each had one more pick out of the four or five remaining girls and Kassie was gleefully taking her time in deliberating over her final choice of teammate, running her finger up the line, pausing thoughtfully when she got to a certain blonde cheerleading captain before _hmm_ ing and slowly running her finger the other way.

"Why ain't you picking your girl today?" Mercedes muttered in her ear, "She's the only reason we won on Monday."

Rachel stiffened but tried to keep her voice calm and quiet, "She's not _my girl_ , Mercedes."

"So pick her because she's in Glee. Either way pick her so we have some chance against team-Cheerio over there."

Mercedes had a point about the unequal prowess between the teams so far, and even if she didn't, of course Rachel wanted to pick Quinn. She'd wanted to pick her first! It was killing her not to, and if Quinn had only looked at her once – given _any_ sign that she would be happy to hear Rachel call her name – then she would have done it.

But Quinn was just standing there with her arms crossed, looking bored and not making eye-contact with anyone. Yes, it was obviously an act, but…

"She won't thank me for it. She doesn't want to be on my team. She doesn't want anything to do with me."

"You think she cares about that right now when she's stuck there feeling like a pork sausage at a vegetarian barbeque?"

"After the unpleasant treatment she received the last time I picked her for my team, yes, I think she would prefer this alternative."

Mercedes shrugged as she remembered the grief Quinn had been given on Monday and reluctantly said, "I guess maybe you're right," before stepping back to gossip quietly with Tina about it.

"Andrea!" Kassie finally decided, her voice unnecessarily loud but not as unnecessary as the spiteful look she shot Quinn at the same time.

Andrea looked shell-shocked as she warily made her way over. With acne, braces, and the unfortunate tale of how she'd wet herself at freshman homecoming because a boy asked her to dance still following her around, she was the only girl in their gym class – in their _year,_ actually – who was ever picked _after_ Rachel. It was a statement, and not a subtle one.

For a full thirty seconds her eyes pleaded with Quinn to look at her, to give her the sign that she needed, but Quinn was keeping her expression so carefully vacant that she could have been in a drug-induced trance, completely unaware of her surroundings.

"L…" Rachel had to clear her throat but it was still shaky when she announced, "Lara, please."

And just like that, Quinn Fabray was benched for the first time in McKinley High history.

* * *

It hadn't hurt. Yes it had been humiliating, but it hadn't _hurt_ because she knew Rachel would have picked her if things were different between them.

Actually, you know what? Screw that, it _had_ hurt! It still did. Rachel had just left her standing there and now not only did everyone think she was a lesbian, they thought she was a lesbian not good enough for Rachel- _freaking_ -Berry!

Which apparently she wasn't, because Rachel had already told her as much.

Her life seriously couldn't get any worse at this point unless she, like, lost a limb or her parents found out about the baby, but naturally, as it happened, the embarrassment of not being picked was going to be the highpoint of this particular gym class.

Standing in front of her gym locker, she argued with herself. Should she leave before anyone could say anything and then come back midway through lunch to shower? Or strip off and act as if she wasn't expecting anything to be said? Leaving would suggest an admission of guilt. Staying could invite more ridicule. Staying gave her an air of authority and would prove that she wouldn't be cowed by them… but that would only last until she inevitably let them run her out of there again when it got to be too much.

It would have been easier to decide if she couldn't feel all of the sly glances coming her way. It was like they _knew_ the battle going on inside of her and were eagerly – for some – and anxiously – for others – waiting to see which side won.

A part of her refused to give in to them a second time, but a larger part of her was a scared, bullied little girl who wanted to be gone before the taunts could begin.

She had pretty much made up her mind to just go when she heard Rachel say to someone, "Yes, for a school with such a diverse mix of students, you'd think bullying would be a thing of the past. I can only assume that our particular class has more than its fair share of bigoted, immature sheep than usual. Of course, letting them know they're getting to you only makes them stronger, which is why I never do."

Quinn didn't know what or who had prompted the remark, and maybe Santana's sneer of "What the fuck are you talking about, Treasure Trail?" meant that nobody else did either. It made her think, though, of what Rachel had gone through so often; of how she'd never backed down or given in, and… _okay_ , she was still a loser and someone Quinn shouldn't model herself after, but, dammit, she wasn't going to let herself look _weaker_ bytucking her tail between her legs and leaving the locker room without a fight.

After taking out her towel, she slammed her locker shut so hard the clang of it cut off every conversation in the room. Good! For the best effect she should have undressed unhurriedly, but she was having a slightly bloated day and exchanged _effect_ for stripping-quickly-and-wrapping-her-towel-around-herself.

She'd only taken one step when Kassie's voice rang out, "Maybe we didn't make ourselves clear on Monday: we're not comfortable showering with you leering at us, Fabray."

Quinn turned to her as coolly as she could considering how hard her heart was beating, "Then don't shower with me."

"What?"

" _You_ can wait until _I'm_ done this time," and then, without hesitation, she strode towards the shower block at the end of the room, turning around at the entrance. "Any of you who _do_ want to shower with me, feel free." She saw Rachel grin before ducking her head to hide it and it took all of her will-power not to blush, "The rest of you will just have to put up with being late for lunch."

"You can't do that!" Charity said, although it came out as more of a question as she glanced at Kassie.

"I can do what I want. And _you_ can deal with it."

She thought she saw Santana smirk, which gave her a little more confidence. Having her best friend step up and stand by her side would have been even better obviously, but she knew well enough just to be happy that she wasn't taking the _other_ side.

"You don't get to call the shots anymore, Quinn," Kassie sneered. "You're not our cheerleading captain now."

Had Kassie actually said that like _she_ was the one in disgrace? The girl was a total moron! How hadn't she been flunked from the team months ago?

"No," she agreed slowly, "but I am still _the_ cheerleading captain. And what are you, Kassie? Oh, right, _nothing_. Just like I predicted." Kassie just seethed at her. "Any more objections or can I take my shower now? And remember, the longer _you_ drag this on, the later _you_ will be for lunch."

"We'll wait," Kassie said, apparently answering for everyone. "Hey, I said _we're waiting_ ," she snapped at two girls who were already walking towards the showers and they slunk back to their lockers nervously.

"Fine."

It was the loneliest shower she had ever taken, which was a kind of strange thing to think about considering how she always showered alone as much as possible, but it was enough to make hot tears mingle with the luke-warm water running down her face.

* * *

The covert jam session had loosened them all up.

It was times like this when Quinn actually _enjoyed_ being in Glee and wasn't just there because she was keeping an eye on her boyfriend and Rachel, or keeping an eye on Rachel for completely different reasons, or spying for Coach Sylvester. It was _okay_ then, she enjoyed singing and dancing, and while it did help round out her extra-curriculars, it was also the one place in school where she would never be on top.

Not only that, but she had to put up with Rachel Berry being on top – they _all_ did – and while that didn't bother _her_ so much anymore, it still pissed everyone else off and created a palpable tension in the room more times than not.

When it was like this though, all of them just singing and dancing and having fun together, with no one pushing to be the lead or get the solo, it was a pretty awesome club to be a member of. She even managed to keep her smile when Mike pulled Rachel out of her chair and danced around with her for a few bars halfway through ' _Ride Wit' Me'_. It was a shame when it was over and she felt an actual pang – a tiny one but still – when "Sue's Kids" said their goodbyes and left.

She nodded her agreement when Rachel told Mr. Schuester how they felt about the split, even if did make her a hypocrite for being Coach Sylvester's ally.

"I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do about it, guys, but I have been thinking about what this means for us regarding Sectionals. Now that all five of you have vocals in _It Takes Two,_ I think we should make it our group number. Which means we need a new duet, and I have the perfect one right here!"

Quinn was as excited as Rachel was when she was handed her lyrics sheet. She knew the song, loved it even, and as far as capturing her mood lately, there couldn't be a better one. It had only been _two days_ and she already felt like she couldn't breathe without Rachel.

She didn't know why she was even the slightly surprised when Mr. Schuester gave the second lead to Finn, because Finn and Rachel were the power couple on stage if not where it counted, and it wasn't like anyone here would expect her to want to sing with Rachel. But she still deflated forlornly. Which, when Finn and Rachel eagerly jumped up ready to sing with eyes only for each other, quickly turned to anger.

"Mr. Schue, why do they automatically get the leads? They're already singing more of _It Takes Two_ than the rest of us. Wouldn't it be more team spirited to mix things up a little? After all, we are working just as hard as they are."

Rachel looked frightened, like she was about to have some of her spotlight taken away from her. Which wasn't what Quinn wanted, but she'd take it if it meant she didn't have to watch Rachel making googly eyes at Finn every time they practiced the number.

Mr. Schuester was looking at her almost as if he was giving her outburst some real thought, but he was just trying to find the best way to let her down.

"This song is really more suited to Rachel's voice, Quinn."

"So, that doesn't mean anyone else can't sing Finn's part just as well as he can."

"Hey!"

She patted her boyfriend's arm, shushing his hurt remark, "You're a good singer, Finn, but so is Puck. Doesn't he deserve a chance?"

"Me?" Behind her, Puck laughed, "I thought you were making a fuss 'cause _you_ wanted to be Berry's leading man."

She _would not_ blush! She _would_ elbow the laughing boy behind her in the stomach, and did so – hard – causing his laughter to turn to coughing.

Rachel was looking thoughtful now, "While Noah does indeed have a nice voice, I'm not sure if he is disciplined enough yet to be my leading man. However, I would be happy to sing with Quinn, if she agreed to a few vocal lessons before the competition."

Quinn scowled but couldn't say much when she knew even Rachel still attended vocal training every Saturday.

"Why do you wanna sing a _love duet_ with Rachel?" Finn asked, sounding hurt more than suspicious, though no doubt suspicion would catch up with him soon enough.

"I don't! Why do _you_?"

"Okay, guys, that's enough. I'll take your considerations on board, Quinn, but we're going to stick with Finn and Rachel for now," Schue raised his hand when she was about to object. "While I appreciate you thinking outside the box, this is Ohio. I don't want to pander to the narrow-minded any more than you do, but we do have to remain accessible to the judges and I'm not sure they'll be ready for you two singing _this_ song to each other, no matter how much you practice." His amiable chuckle masked the serious undertone when he checked, "Are you?"

Now she blushed, "That's not what… I didn't actually mean for me to sing!"

He knew though, didn't he? He was the only person she'd, you know, sort of _come out_ to, albeit indirectly, and while he wasn't giving a lot away to anyone else, she knew he could see straight through her.

"If we make it to Nationals, though, I think your idea will really give us that extra edge against the tough competition."

As concessions went… it sucked.

"Okay, Rachel, Finn, get ready. We need to make this perfect, guys."

Quinn lined up alongside Brittany and Puck, ready to harmonize and sway in the background. Brittany gave her a sympathetic look that she returned with a frown. Puck gave her an amused look, while still rubbing his abused stomach, which she also returned with a frown.

And the next thirty minutes was total torture.

* * *

As the end-of-lunch bell rang, Rachel tried to catch Quinn's eye. Quinn caught hers easily and then dropped it as she walked over to tuck her hand under Finn's elbow, and they left together.

Puck didn't spare her a glance as he left, not that she expected him to, but Mr. Schuester – happy with how their first practice had gone – cheerily told her he'd see her after school.

Still distracted by thoughts of Quinn, she merely nodded in reply and slowly eased the _No Air_ lyrics sheet into an empty plastic pocket in her Glee folder. Thinking she was alone, she jumped when she felt someone coming to stand right behind her. Spinning around, she jumped again, mentally at least, when she realized it was Brittany.

"Um, hi," she began warily, before guessing the problem. It wasn't hard, there were very few reasons why this girl ever spoke to her, "Did you forget where your next class is, Brittany? Because I would be more than happy to point you in the right direction if you tell me which lesson you have."

It was a perfectly valid question but Brittany still looked at her like she was stupid, "No, Rachel, I have a new system. I left a trail of Lucky Charms." She pulled a handful of the breakfast cereal out of the front pocket of her bag to show her.

"To a class you haven't been to yet today?"

"Oh. I didn't think of that," Brittany looked crestfallen for a second but then shook it off. "Anyway, that's not what I wanted to say. I wanted to ask why you didn't want to sing that song with Quinn."

"I…" _did_! was on the tip of her tongue but she couldn't say that, "I made it perfectly clear I wasn't opposed to the idea of singing the song with her."

"But you didn't _fight_ for it, and you always fight to sing the song you want to sing. Trust me, I know, because it's so annoying. How do you think that made Quinn feel?"

"Brittany," she began slowly, because she was testing the words out before she said them. "Quinn didn't really want to sing with me, she just doesn't want me to sing with Finn."

"For someone who always knows the way to all her classes, you can be really dumb sometimes, Rachel," Brittany declared and walked away before Rachel could reply; stopping just outside the door, undecided, before she looked down at her handful of Lucky Charms and purposefully set off to the left.

Rachel watched her go, as bemused as most people were after being treated to a dose of Brittany's advice, and wondered if there was any wisdom in it.

* * *

Quinn was sent to the copy room halfway through fifth period to make duplicates of the homework worksheets and she used the escape to make a detour.

She rapped lightly on the office door, watching as Coach Sylvester's head shot up like a skittish chipmunk, and then went in without waiting for a formal invitation.

"To what do I owe this unexpected, and may I say unwelcome, interruption, Q?"

"We need to step up our game, Coach. Mr. Schuester is really…" she pulled a face, "… _making the best of it_."

"First of all, _we?_ You clearly need to step up _your_ game. Second of all, sit down and tell me everything."

She straightened her skirt demurely before taking a seat. If Mr. Schue thought he could get away with just _dismissing_ her like that and throwing Finn and Rachel in her face, he had another think coming.


	11. Chapter 11

Thank you for all the reviews for the last chapter and I'm sorry I didn't get to respond to many personally this time. Always busy busy at the moment, but here's the next chapter :)

I have lifted a line or two of the dialogue from the episode "Throwdown." because if it ain't broke don't fix it.

 **Chapter Eleven: You Just Keep Me Hanging On.**

They were practicing in the halls now?

Quinn was not impressed when she walked into school in the morning and had the first thing she saw be Rachel crooning away to Finn by her locker.

 _But how, do you expect me,_

 _To live alone with just me…_

"You should be used to it by now, Manhands," she snapped as she neared them. Gripping Finn's forearm like she was trying to break his bone with her fingers, she dragged him away, "Finn, you need to walk me to my locker."

"I was practicing!"

"I don't _care_! If you really need to drool over that dwarf, you can do it in the choir room where no one that matters can see you."

As Finn grumbled beside her, she opened her locker door and only then did she chance a glance at Rachel. She was still singing, only now those sad, brown eyes were meeting hers.

' _Cause my world revolves around you,_

 _It's so hard for me to breathe._

Biting her lip, Quinn closed her eyes to the sight; keeping them closed until she had turned enough to hide her face in her locker.

* * *

 _I'll sing it with you if you want me to. I'm sure we can come up with enough reasons to convince Mr. Schue it's the right choice to make._

It had taken ten minutes of listening to Mr. Laxforth read before Rachel had summoned up the courage to write a note. Mostly because Quinn seemed to be bristling with tension beside her and Rachel didn't want to accidentally make her explode.

 _I_ _don't_ _want to sing it with you._

Rachel nibbled on the end of her pen.

 _You wanted to yesterday._

 _No. I was just making a point that it's not fair that you and Finn always get the leads. Mr. S doesn't even give the rest of us a chance._

Quinn's anger was even coming out in her handwriting; her normally curly, pleasant script was angular and harsh.

 _Okay. Well, if it's really not a big deal, then I wouldn't mind your thoughts on how Finn and I could improve our performance._

She held her breath, knowing this could go one of two ways and if it went the bad way, it could be _really_ bad.

 _What?_

 _We're meeting in the auditorium at lunchtime. Brittany has already agreed to make the extra practice and Finn is going to use his football captaincy to persuade Puck to give up another lunch time in order to pursue excellence. Can we count on you being there, too?_

She had to wait a long time for a reply. Long enough for her patience to run out.

 _Well, can we? If you honestly don't want to sing it with me yourself, I don't know why you'd choose not to attend._

 _You don't need me there to practice. I already know where all my "Oohs" and "Ahhs" go. I won't embarrass you when we perform._

 _You may not need to practice, but your presence would greatly help me perfect my own performance._

 _How? It's not like you can sing_ _at me_ _when we do it in front of the others after school._

Rachel smiled at the misunderstanding. _Well, I was actually referring to you being the only person I trust to give me an honest critique of my overall performance. Puck doesn't like me and, frankly, Brittany will clap at anything. You're my only hope for a candid assessment._

 _I think you're forgetting the one person who'll be in there who is actually your friend. I'm sure Finn will be more than accommodating to your needs._

 _But I am singing_ _with_ _Finn so he is liable to be biased. I said_ _honest critique_ , _not just someone willing to pander to me._

Quinn frowned at her before replying.

 _Why would Finn not be honest? If I_ _was_ _singing with you I wouldn't let it stop me from pointing out your mistakes. If I didn't, it would just make us both look incompetent._

Rachel tapped her pen lightly against her note-pad while she decided on the best response. In the end, she decided to just go for it because it wasn't like she had to worry about hurting Quinn's feelings anymore after all.

 _But, as you've mentioned a few times, Finn still has a crush on me, which leaves him pre-disposed to biased opinions concerning my looks, personality, dress sense and, most importantly, natural talent._

 _Not that I don't believe I have the talent to back it up,_ she added quickly. _But I would prefer to receive an objective evaluation and as you are no longer suffering from the same handicap as Finn, it has to be you._

Quinn's plastic pen made a sharp cracking sound as it snapped between her fingers. Rachel had been prepared for a range of different responses from "Sorry, but no," to a giant "F-you" scrawled across the page. Or even the more hurtful reply of "sure, no problem" – but a broken biro hadn't been one of them, and with the way Quinn was staring down at the blue ink covering her hand, she hadn't expected it either.

Rachel fished one of her own bedazzled pens out of her well-stocked case and handed it over without comment.

* * *

Quinn fumed throughout the entire performance, not knowing who she wanted to kill more – her boyfriend or her… or _Rachel_. It might have helped if she'd thought they were both laying it on thicker to antagonize her but they were both just _too_ into the song.

How she found the strength not to trip Rachel onto her stupid face when she breezed between her and Brittany with a love-sick expression aimed only at Finn, could only be described a miracle. And as for _Finn_ , she was going to stay with him _forever_ after this – and never let him get past first base again!

Once it was finally over, Rachel and Finn – both clearly buzzing from their performance – ran up to Mr. Schuester's director's desk to get notes from him. It gave Quinn the perfect opportunity to put the second stage of Coach Sylvester's plan into action.

"He _clearly_ doesn't like minorities," she glanced back over her shoulder at Puck and Brittany, "I don't know how you two can stand it."

After what she'd just witnessed, she didn't even feel guilty about it.

She was at the main doors when she heard Rachel call out, "Oh, Quinn, wait I –"

The doors closed behind her, cutting off the rest of the sentence. She would get to Berry soon enough.

* * *

Rachel jumped as someone slammed her locker shut between fifth and sixth period, but relaxed when she realized it was just Quinn. Finally she could get some notes from the other girl on her duet with Finn.

"Listen up, Treasure Trail, we're about to have a smack-down!"

Or not.

"I don't want to have a confrontation with you."

Not out here in the open anyway! That would be sincerely stupid. So Rachel started to walk away; it was the only sensible course of action. But apparently Quinn was beyond sense because she followed her, caught her shoulder, and forced her to spin around.

"I don't care what you want, Stubbles, just stop using _my_ boyfriend to make me jealous!"

"That's not what I'm doing!"

"It's exactly what you're doing. And it's not going to work."

"It's _not_ what I'm doing, but if it was, I'd say it was working pretty well!"

She had the satisfaction of seeing Quinn flustered for a second or two before the blonde got herself together and leaned in, "I'm asking as nicely as I possibly can: stop flirting with Finn. He's my boyfriend, I'm having his baby, and you don't have the right to mess with that."

"The right?" she scoffed, "Let's not forget, Quinn, that _you're_ the one who's been cheating!"

From the look that suddenly overcame Quinn's eyes, Rachel surmised that now would be a good time to make a hasty get away.

Quinn dogged her shoulder, "How dare you hold that against me? You were just as willing to…"

Rachel spun back to face her, "I'm talking about your willingness to sink glee club for Coach Sylvester!"

"That has nothing to do with _us_!"

"There is no _us_ , which you have made quite clear, and by helping that woman you are helping to tear apart not only your friends, but also the only club you can feel comfortable in!"

"You're wrong! I still have the Cheerios, and that's what matters."

"For how long? I don't think they do maternity uniforms in the Cheerios colors!"

"Bitch!"

"You can call me names all you want, but am I wrong? Do you honestly think Sue Sylvester is going to give you the time of day when she finds out that you're pregnant?" Rachel hissed. "She will drop you faster than half of your squad can even _spell out_ Cheeriosand then where will you be?"

Quinn was speechless and Rachel took the opportunity to dart away and up the stairs to the second floor. Unfortunately, Quinn recovered quickly enough to follow her.

"If you say anything…!"

Rachel spun around on the landing between floors. In surprise, Quinn stopped two steps down, giving Rachel the unique perspective of being taller for once.

"I wouldn't do that."

"You had better keep your mouth shut."

"I have nothing to gain from outing you, Quinn. In any capacity."

"I hate you!"

"I assure you the feeling is rapidly becoming mutual."

"You're lying!"

Rachel shook her head, "I'm not. But I still want you to be in glee. Despite how awkward it's going to be for me, personally, I want us to be friends and I know that you belong with us. And you're going to need us too, Quinn, probably sooner rather than later, as soon as you –"

"I don't need your stupid, pathetic little club!"

"Yes, you do! And you should start embracing it, because you seriously need to sing out some of that tension in you."

"Oh, you have no idea how much tension I have!"

"Actually I…" Quinn had already turned, red pleats swirling as she headed back down to the first floor. "… know exactly. I'm feeling it too," she finished under her breath.

Should she count this as a victory? It was hard to tell.

* * *

As she skipped sixth period – it was history and she sat next to Santana, so that was two good reasons right there – Quinn found herself in the auditorium, standing in the center of the stage.

She felt completely alone and completely stupid, but… didn't she feel like that everywhere she went, now?

She pressed play on the portable stereo and her foot started tapping out the beat on its own and then…

 _Set me free, why don't you babe_

 _Get out of my life, why don't you babe_

' _Cause you don't really need me_

 _You just keep me hanging on…_

Quinn started to dance to the music, imagining herself as not alone, but surrounded by a dozen other girls, all dancing with her as she tried to tap into the energy that Rachel displayed every time she made one of her Myspace videos. She didn't know if she was singing to Rachel, or Finn or Coach Sylvester, or even Puck and Santana, and Terri Schuester and the . . . the baby, but she ripped every single lyric straight out of her heart, unleashing them on the empty auditorium as she offered all of her fears and doubts and confusion up like a prayer for understanding, both given and received.

 _Why do you keep a-coming around?_

 _Playing with my heart_

 _Why don't you get out of my life?_

 _And let me make a new start_

 _Let me get over you_

 _The way you've gotten over me!_

 _Yeah…_

After, she was trembling as she caught her breath, but damn it, she _did_ feel better.

* * *

Forty-five minutes later found a furious Rachel standing on the auditorium's stage when Quinn, hand in hand with Finn, finally made her appearance.

"Do you know anything about this?" she snarled before she could stop herself.

"About what?"

Finn tried to keep between them, "Rach, take it easy. Whatever it is, it's not Quinn's fault!"

"Like heck it isn't!"

"What did I do now?"

"Brittany and Puck have defected!"

The blonde rolled her eyes, far too casually in Rachel's opinion, "And that's my fault how?"

"Oh, I think you know," Rachel growled out.

Quinn locked eyes with her and Rachel wasn't going to be the one to back down. Quinn was trying to sabotage her, so _screw_ their agreement; it didn't count anymore. If Quinn was going to try and take the glee club down, Rachel was going to take _Quinn_ down!

"Okay you three, the others will be here any minute so let's get into position."

They fell into a line at Mr. Schuester's instruction, but Rachel couldn't stop glaring at Quinn.

" _What_ is your problem with me, Manhands?"

"I think you know already," she said, "What's your problem with me, Barbie?"

Quinn gave her a look that said she wanted to kill her, before snapping, "Finn, control your Furby before I stomp on it!"

"I – what? She's not – uh…"

Rachel rolled her eyes at the same time as Quinn did, but it was in no way a bonding experience.

Thankfully, Sue's Kids – aka the rest of New Directions – trooped in and took seats in the first two rows.

"Right," Mr. Schuester began, "Obviously we'll be splitting the numbers up, but I hope you'll all agree that this is a really good contender for our duet at Sectionals." He gave the three of them a grin before nodding to Brad at the piano, "Let's take it away, guys."

It went swimmingly for all of twenty-five seconds.

* * *

They sat in the choir room, all of them, in a silence broken only by the squeak of Artie's wheels as he nervously rolled back and forth and Puck "squeaking out" a fart. Artie apologized, Puck didn't, and Quinn really didn't care either way. She just wanted to be out of this situation as soon as possible.

Which was made totally obvious by the whole not leaving thing, clearly.

Rachel's mouth opened and closed a few times but no sound came out. Hardly surprising when everyone was staring at her, waiting for an explanation. Like _she'd_ been to blame for this whole thing? Rachel had been the one trying to keep them together from the start!

And, okay, Quinn was still angry with her, but no one else had a reason to be. They were just using her as a scapegoat.

"Look, blaming each other isn't going to make this better," she said eventually, and then wished she hadn't when Rachel scoffed at her.

It did break a little of the tension though, enough to make them all start talking over each other at once. Half of it was accusatory and the other half was apologetic, and it was all just chaos until Finn put his finger and thumb between his lips and whistled.

"Come on guys, why don't we all –"

Brittany interrupted him, "We should totally have a cheer circle."

"We don't have a spirit stick," Santana's sarcastic tone was watered down for Brittany's sake.

"I got a spirit stick for you."

Santana batted her eyelashes, "Thanks, Puck, I'm sure Kurt can't wait for it to be his turn to speak now."

As Kurt choked on air, Puck just grinned, casually slapping Finn on the back, "Nah, it ain't _my_ spirit stick he wants to get his hands on."

Looking around, Finn saw a bright red Kurt, several people grinning at him, and those who weren't were glaring at Puck, "What just happened?"

"Nothing, Finn," Rachel said angrily. "Noah Puckerman is just being extremely juvenile and callous, as usual."

"It was a joke, Berry, jeez."

"But not a funny one. Words hurt."

"Santana started it!"

"Way to take it like a man, asshole."

"I don't take it, babe, I give it."

"Even I can barely stand to leave _that_ joke just hanging there," Kurt offered to titters from Mercedes, Tina and even Santana.

"Can we please stop this and concentrate on how to repair our group dynamic?"

Quinn smiled, "I think we just have, Rach."

All eyes turned to her as they registered her affectionate shortening of the diva's name and to top it off, she knew she looked wide-eyed and guilty for the offense.

"And there you go breaking it again," Mercedes deadpanned, causing enough chuckles for the awkward moment to not be _that_ awkward.

"I'm sure Quinn just couldn't bring herself to waste extra breath on my full name," Rachel said, but she was smiling.

"Yeah, exactly, Rachel Barbra Berry isn't worth the time it takes, you know?" They were all looking at her again and she probably should have quit while she was ahead. If Rachel hadn't been smiling at her, she would have thought of that before it was too late, "I'm actually thinking of going back to It."

There went that smile, as she'd known it would. It proved to be a pointless insult, though, when Santana unwittingly brought it back.

"Hey, I don't need to hear about your pet names for each other. It'll give me night terrors."

"Santana, I assure you, while Quinn may have a choice selection of pet names for me, I do not have one for her."

"They are _not_ pet names, Stubbles, don't flatter yourself."

"Ahh, thank God, the disturbance in the force has resolved itself," Artie said with exaggerated relief, " _Now_ we're back to normal."

* * *

The group split up shortly after that, heading off early to other after-school activities or home, but Rachel lingered in the choir room alone. There was only half an hour left until her dad was due to pick her up anyway, and she could use the intervening time to read the chapter she hadn't listened to in American Literature.

Twenty-five minutes later, the school halls felt deserted as she made her final visit of the day to her locker. It was so quiet she could hear the clickity-click-click of Donna the secretary typing away in the principal's suite around the corner. It made the sudden squeak of sneakers on the linoleum very evident and she tensed. It wasn't often Rachel was hassled when she was alone – most of a bully's pleasure came from the audience, after all – but there were a few, Santana for example, that also appreciated the personal touch.

When the footsteps seemed to come within feet of her before stopping and no one spoke, she said, "You're too late for my lunch money and I have nothing else of worth on me, so I think it would be beneficial to the both of us if you could come back tomorrow during school hours."

"When have I ever taken your lunch money?"

She hadn't realized how keyed up she'd been until the sound of Quinn's voice made her sag with relief against the bank of lockers. She briefly closed her eyes, waiting for her heartbeat to slow down, before realizing that it was pointless while Quinn Fabray was standing behind her.

She straightened up, pretending to be focused on the contents of her locker, "Actually there was that one time."

"Oh, right, I remember. I gave that to charity."

"Well, at least someone got a hot meal out of it."

"It was a donkey sanctuary, I think."

Rachel smiled, "A cold meal then."

Quinn huffed in amusement behind her and it probably wasn't meant to annoy Rachel, but it did. What was she doing here? Why were they talking? Why was she being friendly? Rachel was giving her the space she'd asked for to move on; why couldn't Quinn afford her the same courtesy?

She didn't voice any of her questions, if only because she didn't know which one to ask first, and she continued to keep her back to Quinn despite having no business left to conclude in her locker.

It seemed to make Quinn nervous because she stumbled over her next few words, "I-I was just, uh, coming by to get my Cheerios folder from my locker. Coach wants the notes I made for the routine we did last Friday."

"She's going to take the credit for your hard work, I assume?"

"I don't know, maybe."

"You don't sound too upset by that."

"I'm not. I'll still know it was mine. Besides, I got everything I needed out of it."

Rachel felt tears prick her eyes at the desolate way Quinn spoke, but she blinked them back, "Well, don't let me stop you from going to your locker."

"I won't," there was a long pause in which she heard Quinn walk a few steps away… and then back again. "Rachel, I wanted to say sorry, too. Finn explained to me why you took your underwear off."

She felt her cheeks redden, "I'm glad you now know that I wasn't trying to seduce you but I don't accept your apology."

"What? Why not?"

"Because your refusal to accept mine made me realize that I hand out forgiveness to you far too readily."

"Rach."

"Stop calling me that! Also, if I _had_ been trying to seduce you, do you have any idea how humiliating it would have been to have you respond the way you did? The things you said, the names you called me? I could overlook them at the time because I knew you'd misunderstood my intentions, but if I _had_ been…"

"That's not fair. If you _had_ been trying to seduce me, they would have been entirely appropriate."

Now Rachel turned around, "And if I called _you_ a slut because you're pregnant, would that make it okay because you are actually pregnant?"

She watched Quinn clench her jaw angrily before she ducked her head, muttering, "No."

"Was there anything you wanted to add to your apology or are you done? My dad is probably waiting for me outside."

Quinn looked up again, "Like what? Sorry I called you that? Sorry I doubted you? Sorry I almost _ravished_ you?"

If she was hoping to get a laugh it was too soon, but Rachel did file that last comment away to blush over later.

"No, I wasn't thinking of another _sorry_."

"What then?"

Sighing, she turned just to close her locker, "It doesn't matter. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Rach… _el_ ," she finished, anticipating Rachel's glare, "I was messing with you. Thank you," she said slowly, making sure she felt every letter, "I really appreciate what you did. So does Finn. We owe you."

She shook her head, "Finn doesn't owe me anything."

Quinn's voice sharpened again, "Oh, so it's just me?"

"No! I didn't mean it like that. I just meant, if anything, I still owe Finn for… stuff, not the other way around."

"Okay."

"Although if you did want to thank me," Rachel mustered a grin. "Have you given any more thought to letting me have Grumpy Bear back?"

"I hate to break it to you, Berry, but Grumpy Bear is dead."

"What?" she gasped. "How?"

"Stabbed twenty-two times with a sharp, flat object. The police suspect file play."

It took a second to sink in, another second for her outrage to surface, "You stabbed my teddy-bear with your nail file twenty-two times?"

Quinn nodded solemnly for a few seconds before she couldn't help breaking into a grin, "Relax! Grumpy is fine."

"That was unnecessary," she huffed.

"He's not your teddy-bear anyway, not right now."

"So you won't let me have him?" she sighed, desperately trying to convince herself she didn't want the silly stuffed animal anyway.

Quinn spared a glance first one way and then the other before closing the distance between them. Rachel didn't _want_ her so close – she didn't like her very much right now after all – but she couldn't quite get her body to be on the same page. She allowed herself to be backed up against her locker and the only concession she made was to bring her hands up, pressing them against Quinn's shoulders to keep her at bay.

They had _zero_ effect and suddenly Quinn's chest was against hers and her lips were against her ear.

"If you want him back you have to earn him. He wants to be with you but he's not chasing you anymore. He jumped, and now it's your turn. So _you_ had better start wooing _him_ , okay?"

She wanted to argue that she had no intention of doing any such thing, but Quinn's lips on hers didn't just stop her mouth; they stopped her entire brain. The kiss was soft and short, way too short, and the twinkle in Quinn's eyes as she pulled back nearly made Rachel grab at her collar and pull her back in.

How she resisted, nothing in the universe could explain. But she did, and Quinn was already walking away before her eyes could focus again properly.

"See you tomorrow, Gnome."

"That's a pet name," Rachel breathed through still tingling lips.

"And if you ever tell it to anyone, I'll whip your behind until you can't sit down."

"Kinky," she breathed next, in the exact same stunned tone.

Quinn turned to glare at her, only her eyes betrayed her amusement instead, and Rachel laughed as she pushed herself off of the lockers and sauntered towards the doors.

"See you in the morning… baby?" she sampled the feel of it on her tongue. It didn't feel right, though, and she frowned in disappointment.

Quinn shared her opinion, although she didn't look away from her open locker as she said, "Too generic, you can do better."

"Maybe I'll try," she said off-hand, not wanting to give her feelings away. "You can too, you know?"

"What?" Quinn spun to face her. "Gnome is cute, and original, and it has meaning!"

"A meaning I don't actually remember, but that's beside the point. I was talking about your routine last Friday. It was wonderful, Quinn, and it was _yours_. You shouldn't let Coach Sylvester take that away from you. At least not without credit."

Quinn nodded thoughtfully for a few seconds, but all she said was, "You tripped over a garden gnome when you were drunk."

And just like that it came back to her. She could remember the cool, wet feeling of walking through ankle-high grass and the sudden disorientation of falling in the dark…

She smiled a little, "And afterwards you told me if I didn't behave you'd make me sit outside with a… a…" her nose crinkled as she remembered. "… a toadstool or something."

"Yeah, something like that." They smiled at each other for what felt like a year or two, maybe it was even longer. "Your dad's going to think you got lost if you don't meet him soon."

"Yeah…" And then the words sank in and she pulled herself together. The last ten minutes notwithstanding, Quinn didn't deserve to be mooned over, "Yes. See you tomorrow… uh, Quinn."

"Bye, Berry."

She left immediately then, without looking back, so she missed the way Quinn watched her go with a slight frown, and she missed the way Quinn turned back to her locker and pulled out her Cheerios folder, and she missed the way that after a moment of staring at it, she pushed the folder back in and shut her locker with an air of finality.

What she didn't miss was the way her stomach both soared and plummeted as she walked out of school. It was very unsettling and slightly nauseating, to feel both elated and depressed simultaneously.

Quinn wanted Rachel to woo her, which surely meant she wanted them to be together again! But to give into Quinn's wishes meant that once again, Rachel was allowing the other girl to subjugate her, and she already held such little power in their relationship – for lack of a better word – that she was loath to give the blonde even more.

She could do nothing but give in to the battle that raged inside her and just hoped that by tomorrow morning, when she saw Quinn again, a clear winner would successfully wrestle itself to the top.

* * *

Thanks for reading.

Chapter title and song lyrics used come from The Supremes song: "You Keep Me Hangin' On." as sung by Quinn Fabray in "Throwdown."


	12. Chapter 12

I'm really sorry it has taken me so long to get this chapter up. New born babies take up more time than you'd think!

 **Chapter Twelve: Together We'll Stand.**

It was by chance or bad luck that they ran into each other on Friday morning, as Rachel had been doing her best to avoid Quinn since deliberately arriving at school a minute after the first bell rang. It wasn't that she didn't _want_ to see her, but after much tossing and turning the night before she still hadn't decided what she was going to _do_ about them.

Her heart said 'woo' but her head said:

'Do you honestly think that's a good idea? It's only going to give Quinn more influence over how your relationship progresses and you're already in so much deeper than she is. If you weren't she would have agreed to your very reasonable requests in the first place instead of turning them back on you. Which I'm sure is just another power play to keep you on your toes so that she can continue to hold all of the cards. And, anyway, you should be the woo-ee, not the woo-er! Not that you wouldn't be perfectly happy to open doors for her and take _her_ on romantic dates – after all, that might be the only way you actually get a date that doesn't take place in the back of her car – but Quinn must get woo'ed all the time and this is your first relationship (for lack of a better word) and it's only fair that if she is genuinely serious about liking you then she should be prepared to offer you the full experience.'

And while her head was saying all of that, her heart was simply saying woo-woo-woo over and over again like a fudging owl was trapped inside her chest.

So yes, there had been a _lot_ of tossing and turning the night before and she still didn't have a clear plan of how to proceed, hence the avoidance.

Until now.

Quinn paused in applying lip gloss in the mirrors just long enough to say, "Good morning."

Rachel took that as a sign that they were alone, which was unfortunate, but she didn't quite have the gall to just turn on her heel and leave the room. She tensed as the door softly clicked home behind her but did her best to look unaffected.

"Good morning, Quinn. How are you feeling?" She was in the bathroom after all.

"Disappointed I didn't find flowers in my locker this morning."

It was said so neutrally that Rachel couldn't be sure if she really was disappointed or just teasing her. She decided to play it safe. "Assuming you were expecting them from me . . . even if I'd had the time this morning to stop and buy flowers, which I did not, I don't know how to break into your locker the way you obviously do mine."

Quinn didn't speak until she'd put her gloss away in her bag and turned to lean against the sinks, smoothing her Cheerios skirt down with exaggerated care before looking up at her. "Well, just so you know, you're already losing points on creativity."

"I think I'm probably going to lose points across the board."

"Why?" Quinn folded her arms across her chest, annoyed.

Okay, so she hadn't planned out this conversation, she hadn't even wanted to have it, but Quinn's indignation stoked her own and she felt a rant coming on.

"Quinn, tell me exactly _how_ to woo you and I'll gladly give it some consideration, but I'm not sure how I am supposed to demonstrate my romantic feelings for you when I am forbidden to look at you or speak to you or even approach you. I've told you how I feel, numerous times, and you still broke up with me because on _one_ occasion I said something hurtful, in the heat of the moment that I _regretted_ instantly, which brings me back to the fact that I still think _you_ should be wooing _me_!"

"No, Rachel!" She startled at the raised voice and shot a look at the door, worrying it had carried into the halls. Quinn glanced that way too, but her eyes were filled with apology not fear as she pushed away from the sinks and softly repeated, "No. I've done that. If you want this to be something it's your turn. I can't keep being the only one who is putting themselves on the line here."

"You're not."

"It feels like it."

"It feels like I'm the only one who is too," Rachel said with a helpless little shrug.

"Seriously?" Quinn was angry again as she stalked closer. "Have you seen the crap I'm getting out there?"

"I know your popularity is taking a few hits but you haven't lost anything important. You still have Finn, you're still the Head Cheerleader, and the Glee Club still likes you more than me even though you were the one who tried to destroy us."

"It's not like that was my idea, I didn't have a choice!" Rachel nodded, because while she believed there was always a choice, Coach Sylvester was quite possibly the exception that proved the rule. "And what have you lost, Rachel? What have you given up? What sacrifices have you made to be with me?"

They were almost toe-to-toe now and she couldn't think of an answer.

"Exactly! You're still playing on the safe side of the street, Rachel, and that is not going to make us work. You need to join me out here or there's just no point!"

"I don't know how to do that!"

"Flowers would have been a good place to start."

"I can't just . . . Quinn, surely me telling you how I feel is enough! If it isn't, I don't know . . ."

"No!" Quinn didn't shout this time but her voice held enough steel to clamp Rachel's mouth. "I didn't make a half-assed attempt with you when you needed it. Which means I deserve the full grand gesture too!"

"Oh, you want a grand gesture? Are you sure? Do you want me to go out there right now and sing about how much I like you? Because I will if that's what you want. I'll serenade you in the halls, I'll recite poetry on the volley ball court, and I'll cheer for you on the bleachers at the game tonight. Are those gestures grand enough for you, Quinn?"

"You can't do any of that!"

"I know! So how do I make a _subtle_ grand gesture?"

"I have no idea, but if you _want_ me enough I'm sure you'll figure it out."

"If I _want_ you enough?" Rachel repeated incredulously.

"Yes!"

"And where's my proof of how much you _want_ me?"

Maybe she'd been asking for it sub-consciously, or not so sub-consciously, but it still surprised her when Quinn's mouth met hers. She was forced back a few feet by Quinn's lips, until her back was against the door. Her left wrist was pinned back beside her ear before she had really cottoned on to what was happening, but after a second and a half of careful consideration, Rachel decided she was okay with it. Quinn made a satisfied noise when Rachel kissed back and, as always, it was the sexiest thing she'd ever heard.

Quinn pulled back as the bell signalling third period trilled out in the halls, but only far enough to speak. Rachel felt the enunciation of each whispered word. "That's how much I want you." Her knees nearly gave out. "Ball's in your court now, Berry."

Collecting her bag from over by the sinks she left the bathroom before Rachel could get her head together enough to speak. Not that she could have said anything meaningful anyway, because while her heart screamed out 'WOO!' her head could only just about manage a, 'Whu . . .?'

* * *

Gym class.

Volley ball.

Quinn wasn't made a captain again, but she barely even cared at this point.

Santana and Brittany were the team captains today. Santana had first pick and didn't pick her, but she wasn't surprised. For reasons unbeknown to the rest of the student body (bar a couple) Santana had more reason to be scared of associating with her right now than anyone else and Quinn didn't hold it against her. She would do the same if their positions were reversed.

Thankfully Brittany didn't have the same hang-ups and cheerfully called out her name, even going so far as to give her a little one-armed hug when Quinn walked over to join her.

As Santana reluctantly picked Kassie for her last choice, Brittany leaned to whisper into her ear. "It'll make Santana mad but I'll totally pick Rachel next if you want me to."

Quinn smiled before she could stop herself, no doubt further cementing Brittany's beliefs about the two of them. "It's up to you, Britt. She can play pretty well, but it doesn't really make any difference to me."

Brittany gave her a look, it was the kind of look that implied she was being an idiot and Quinn didn't like it much, but it was Brittany so she just shrugged and looked away.

"Rachel!"

" _Rachel?_ " Santana asked, giving Brittany a confused glare from the other side of the net.

"Me?" Rachel checked, pointing at herself like a dork.

Quinn rolled her eyes.

Brittany smiled, "Yeah, unless your name's not really Rachel. Wait," her eyes widened, "Should I have called you Manhands."

Santana and nearly everyone else started laughing and Rachel looked like she'd just realized she was the butt of a joke.

"No!" Quinn hissed just loud enough for Brittany to hear. "Don't ever call her that. Say sorry!"

Brittany shot a confused look at Quinn but didn't hesitate, "Sorry, Rachel, I shouldn't have called you that. It's not nice. Please will you be on my team?"

As Rachel warily made her way over, Quinn heard someone on the opposing side mutter, "Only Brittany would be _stupid_ enough to actually want Stubbles on her team."

She bristled about it but kept her mouth shut as they took their positions.

She wasn't at all surprised though when, ten minutes into the game, Santana _accidentally_ backhanded the ball into her team-mate's face.

* * *

The locker room after Gym had come to be a place she dreaded. Rachel had never been much a fan of it to start with, but it was even worse now that it meant ridicule for Quinn every single lesson.

Quinn was clearly intending to take the same dominant stance as before and was already in her towel when Kassie approached, two other girls flanked her with unearned authority. Rachel didn't know their names but she was pretty sure one of them wasn't even an ex-Cheerio, just an opportunist.

"Can I help you with something?" Quinn asked in a tone that was both polite and forbidding.

"Yeah, you can stay out here until we're done," Kassie said. "No one appreciated the stunt you pulled Wednesday, Fabray."

"It wasn't a stunt, it was a shower, although seeing as how terrible a cheerleader you are, Kassie, I'm not surprised you couldn't tell the difference."

Kassie leaned down into Quinn's personal space, she was actually taller than Brittany, although not as graceful from what Rachel had seen. "Listen here, Fabitch! You might still be head cheerleader, probably 'cause Sylvester's as big a dyke as you are, but your little girlfriend got most of us kicked off of the squad—" Rachel had no idea how no-one heard her gasp, maybe the tension was just too thick. "—which means we owe you nothing. You have _no_ friends in here, Quinn."

"That's not true," Quinn's voice was quiet but firm.

"Okay, let's see." With a wide grin Kassie turned to the room. "Hands up who's friend's with Quinn."

The only person to put their hand up was Brittany. Rachel only kept her hands down by clenching them into fists. Holding one up might be a grand gesture but it wouldn't be subtle.

"That's what I thought," Kassie was smirking now. "So you'll stay out here, and when the rest of us _normal_ girls have finished showering, you can take yours."

"Honestly Kassie, I don't know what you're so scared of because even if I was gay you would have _nothing_ I want to look at. You have nothing _anybody_ wants to look at. Now if you're done embracing your bigotry enough for one day, I'm going to take a shower."

"Are you deaf?" The acidic words caused no reaction but the hand that slammed into Quinn's chest, forcing the blonde to stumble back, most certainly did.

Quinn's instincts were to bring her hands up to protect her stomach rather than lash back and it was Santana who whirled around, the polo shirt she'd just taken off dangling forgotten in her clenched fist. Tina gasped while Brittany's innocent bright blue eyes turned dark and murderous and Mercedes muttered, "Oh no, she did _not_ just _do_ that!"

Despite all of that, Rachel surprised herself with her own reaction and didn't even remember covering the distance that put her between Quinn and Kassie just as the taller girl, pleased with herself, was stepping in to push Quinn again.

"Stop it right now!" she snapped, staring straight up at the intimidating bully.

She had to be nearly as tall as Finn! But that was all she had going to for her. She didn't have the biting wit or fiery temper of Santana or that cold, evil glint in her eye that Quinn managed so well. She was just a petty and jealous overgrown girl . . . who could pick Rachel up and shake her upside down until the contents of her pockets fell to the floor!

"Get out of the way, Fido. My problem isn't with you, it's with your lesbian lover!"

"No, this ends this instant. I'm fed up with your blatant homophobia and . . ."

"Rachel . . ."

"No, this isn't about you personally, Quinn, so you can save your embarrassment-fueled degrading nicknames for another time." She only realized after the fact that Quinn had actually called her by her given name, but she was on a roll now and didn't intend to stop until she'd said her piece. "This is for gay people everywhere! I'm not prepared to stand by and pretend this behavior doesn't sicken me. I see this kind of bred-in-the-bone vileness every day, Kassandra, and I know it doesn't come from a place of righteousness or morality like you would have people believe. It comes from fear and insecurity and small-mindedness. It's also against the law! You pushing Quinn just then makes you every bit as guilty of a hate crime as the intolerant delinquents who vandalize my dads' car at least once a month."

Well, she certainly had their attention. It was only as she was basking in it that her words had time to catch up to her. "Not that I'm implying Quinn _is_ gay. As I said at the beginning, this is for homosexuals everywhere, none of which are necessarily in this locker room."

"Shut up! She _told_ us she kissed you," said the nameless girl to Kassie's right.

When Quinn didn't immediately jump in to defend herself, Rachel did it. " _Tried_ to kiss me—"okay that made her look better than Quinn so she hurried on. "—and besides, you're all very naïve if you think one experience with a member of the same sex is enough to conclude your sexual orientation for life, or even the next day for that matter, especially under circumstances as convoluted as ours was."

"Whatever!" Kassie threw a hand up in her face, her palm only narrowly missing contact with Rachel's nose. She heard Quinn hiss through her teeth as she stepped up behind her protectively. "We still don't want that dyke seeing us naked. Right?"

A murmur of agreement went around the room, although it was more half-hearted than it had been before Rachel's speech.

"Fine." All of the fight seemed to have gone out of Quinn and she sank down onto the bench beside her bag. She pulled out the paperback they were reading for American Lit. and, with her eyes trained on it, added, "I'll wait until you're all done."

There was a tense moment of silence as everyone looked around at each other, even Kassie seemed unsure about her victory.

Brittany broke it by plopping down beside Quinn. "I'll wait too. I don't want to shower with homosexuals."

There was an even tenser moment of silence until Mercedes said, "You mean homophobes, right?"

"Oh yeah, that's the bad one, right? That's totally what I meant."

Quinn gave the girl a grateful smile as she opened her book. "You don't have to Britt."

"I know. I want to."

And then it happened and it sent a surge of warmth through Rachel because here was her proof that she really was a part of something special, they all were.

Mercedes sat down with a shrug. "Yeah. Me too."

Tina followed her, "I-I-I feel more c-comfortable showering w-with Quinn than m-most p-p-people."

Rachel silently sank down on the bench opposite them, knowing that in this situation speaking her thoughts wouldn't be welcome.

Santana rolled her eyes, muttering, "Whatever," as disinterestedly as possible as she sat down on the other side of Brittany, like she hadn't just been about to punch Kassie into next week.

There was a second where everyone just stared at the tableau of uncomfortable girls, and Brittany, but then the room was a flurry of activity again as they went back to stripping down and the conversation came back. And if some of it included comments directed at the six of them, they all studiously ignored it.

When everyone bar a few stragglers had disappeared into the showers, Santana said, "You realize they think we're _all_ gay for each other now, right? They probably think we're waiting to have some kind of lesbian Glee orgy."

Rachel was about to refute the ridiculous claim but Quinn started laughing and so she just stared at her in surprise instead.

"Hey, Girl, you can look all you want, but I'm not down for an orgy, with girls or guys," Mercedes' face was so straight that Quinn started laughing harder, making Tina chuckle too.

"I'm down for that," Brittany nodded, her face as straight as Mercedes', making it hard for Rachel to know if she was joking or not. "Girls gone wild: Glee-style."

Quinn's book slipped from her lap as she brought both hands up to stifle a snort in her sudden giggle-fest.

"Quinn, are you okay?"

"Yes . . ." Quinn took a deep breath, gaining some control over her laughter. "I'm fine, Rachel. Just . . . I don't know, I just think I really love you guys right now."

The five of them shared a look over the top of her head.

"Is she having some kind of psychotic break?" Tina whispered.

Santana smirked, "Either that or she's been drinking the Homecoming punch again."

The other two nodded seriously until Rachel rolled her eyes and pointed out the obvious, "It's her hormones. The pregnant body produces high levels of oestrogen to combat the stress and discomfort of growing a baby. I imagine the strain and anxiety Quinn has undergone in the last week has built up quite a supply of it and this its release."

"Anyway," Quinn sniffed and wiped a hand over her damp cheeks as she picked her book back up from the floor. "I meant what I said. I'm not a lesbian, but I do appreciate what you all just did for me."

"But if you're n-not . . ." Tina dropped her eyes when Quinn turned to her, and then glanced up at Rachel before dropping them again. "It's okay. It's none of my b-business."

"I . . . It . . ." Quinn began twice but couldn't seem to get further than that.

"What happened last week was an anomaly," Rachel said for her. "I was being unnecessarily stubborn and perhaps a little cruel about withholding something that Quinn required."

"What?" Mercedes bluntly asked.

"That's personal," she said calmly, "but I assure you it was nothing sexual in nature. Anyway, Quinn was under the assumption that I had a crush on her – something that is entirely not true, but I can understand why she thought so considering the amount of attention I have paid to her well-being recently – and acted on that hypothesis to entice my co-operation. It backfired, naturally, and has left us both extremely embarrassed by the whole encounter."

When everyone turned to Quinn, she nodded, " _Extremely_ embarrassed. No offense, Rachel, but I am so glad I read that situation wrong and you stopped me."

"No offense taken, Quinn, and in turn I am glad that you took no for an answer." She couldn't help herself. "Even if it did take me saying it several times."

Quinn glared at her but there was humor in her eyes. "Don't knock it, Berry. We _all_ know me coming on to you is going to be the highlight of your high school experience, even if it was fake."

Rachel grinned, "Well, if that turns out to be true, thank goodness there is life after high school."

* * *

After the confrontations in the locker room the shower itself was completely uneventful. Not that Quinn had ever entertained the idea of an orgy the way Brittany had.

They'd waited until they were the only six left before heading through to the showers together and then, by unspoken agreement, they all very much kept their eyes to themselves. Well, all except _Brittany_ who just honestly didn't seem to care as she danced about, going from shower-head to shower-head as she sang into her bar of soap and Quinn almost had another giggle-fit when she slapped Tina on the ass at the end of the song, shocking the girl so much she jumped against the wall tiles like a naked starfish.

She felt a little guilty for it, because she'd been the one to bring up the conversation about Sectionals and what new songs they could put into the ring. She'd just wanted a way to keep things comfortable between them all, and discussing the one thing they all had in common seemed the way to go, and a distraction from the fact that for some _unGodly_ reason, Rachel had chosen the shower head right next to hers!

She was on permanent blush and so being able to laugh at Brittany's rendition of a song from The Little Mermaid was a good thing. It was also keeping Santana amused, which was an even better thing, because Quinn was expecting her to start bitching her out about being put in this situation any second. But her snark was mild and mostly directed at Rachel's song choices and when she nearly slipped over when she was laughing at Tina, Quinn smiled, knowing they hadn't been this relaxed with each other in a while.

It left instantly when Brittany appeared at her side and said, "Why can't we see the baby yet, Quinn?"

"Uh, 'cause it's not born yet?" Mercedes' sarcasm was tempered by her chuckles, but at the other end of the room she couldn't see the way Brittany was staring right at Quinn's naked stomach.

"Uh, Brittany," she said, hunching slightly over to cover herself. She couldn't turn away because that would put her facing Rachel. "Can we have this conversation later? When we're wearing clothes maybe?"

"What's wrong? I thought only lesbians didn't want to look in the shower?"

Seriously? Well, she had her there, and Santana's chuckle from behind cemented it. "It's not that, obviously, I just . . . um."

"I expect Quinn, like many pregnant women I'm sure, feels a little self-conscious of the physical changes her body is going through, Brittany," Rachel said, so matter-of-factly she could have been reciting from her fake Health Science project. "It's unnecessary because she's hardly showing at all yet, as you pointed out, but you should be able to see the baby bump within the next few weeks."

Great! Now Brittany was going to keep checking!

"How do you know she isn't showing yet, Berry?" Santana asked slyly.

"Because I've been sneaking peaks the entire time we've been in the shower."

"What?" Quinn spun to her and the combination of her indignation and Rachel's carefully straight face and laughing eyes was enough to make Santana almost fall over again. "You wish you had the guts to look," she snapped.

"Oh, I have the guts, Quinn, just not the inclination."

Yeah, sure.

Santana and Brittany declared themselves done and left the shower unit with Rachel reminding them that Mr. Schuester wanted them all to meet in the Choir room at lunch to discuss the events of yesterday. Quinn still had to wash the conditioner out of her hair and so she was pleased that Mercedes and Tina liked to take ridiculously long showers. It saved her from being alone with Rachel.

The relief was short-lived.

"So when exactly are you due, Quinn?" Mercedes asked.

"The middle of May."

"Are you n-n-nervous?"

Quinn shrugged, "The idea of possibly pushing something the size of a Thanksgiving Turkey out of my vagina is a little unsettling."

"It won't be that big, will it?" Tina sounded horrified on her behalf.

She shrugged again, "I was a ten pound baby. I pretty much destroyed my mother down there."

It was a popular anecdote at family gatherings; how she'd been fat even before she was born.

"Wow, and Finn is huge so . . ."

It was Rachel who cut Tina off. "I don't think it's necessary to point out things that may give Quinn cause to worry even further."

"Yeah, sorry Q-Quinn."

"It's alright." It wouldn't be, if she hadn't seen baby pictures of Puck one time. He'd been tiny; right up until he hit fourteen according to Santana. "But can we not talk about it anymore. I don't mind you guys knowing, but I'm still trying to keep it to myself for as long as I can."

"W-why?"

"Why? Uh, because I'm getting enough ridicule in school right now as it is. And I don't particularly want my parents finding out, _ever_ , and the more people that know the more chance there is of them hearing about it. So just keep your mouths shut, okay?"

She might like them more now than she had an hour ago, because she appreciated what they had done for her, but that didn't make them suddenly friends. And it didn't give her reason to trust them with her personal life either; she didn't even trust Santana with that. The only person she did was Rachel, who she could see was getting ready to leave.

It was suddenly important that she left first, because following her out might send the wrong message. She was done anyway, so she hit the button to turn her shower off but didn't waste time putting her towel around her, she just held it in her hand as she left.

Brittany and Santana were just heading out the door and called back that they'd see her in a little while. Quinn took advantage of the empty room to dry herself vigorously and was already in her underwear when Rachel made her towel-wrapped entrance.

"That wasn't supposed to be a grand gesture, by the way," Rachel said quietly, trusting Quinn would know what she meant.

"Good, because while I liked it, your speech didn't do me any favours."

"I know." They were quiet as Rachel dried herself off and Quinn pulled on a fresh Cheerios skirt. "I didn't mean to overreact but when she pushed you . . . Actually I really wish in hindsight that, despite my pacifist nature, I'd stayed back and allowed Santana to hit her."

"I'm glad you didn't. Santana's fierce and Kassie's uncoordinated but given the right conditions she could turn S into a pretzel. And you standing up for me meant more anyway," she added with a shy smile.

Rachel smiled too, and then after a moment said, "Uh, could you help me? I'm not used to the clasps yet."

"What?" Quinn stared, confused, as Rachel turned her back to her. And then, "Oh, uh, yeah sure. Finally ditched the training bras then, huh?"

"Yes."

Quinn took the two sides and pulled them together, clasping the perfectly fitting bra easily while keeping her eyes up somewhere level with the light fixtures. "If you can't . . . uh, who helped you dress this morning?"

"My father's aren't in the slightest bit embarrassed about this kind of thing," Rachel said with confidence and Quinn ducked her head, feeling a little childish for her assumptions, after all, they were gay so it was a no bigger deal than when her Mom had taught her how to wear a bra . . . "I, on the other hand, was very embarrassed!"

"Oh, thank God!" she breathed out subconsciously.

Rachel turned around. "Excuse me?"

She colored up, but it was just Rachel so she explained anyway. "I was too, when my Mom . . . it's silly." She was quiet for a moment before adding. "I had to start wearing bras when I was nine and no one else my age was so . . ." she shrugged.

It was so obvious she couldn't miss the way Rachel's eyes dipped to her chest before darting back up again uncomfortably.

Quinn averted her eyes, "I lost a lot of weight on Coach Sylvester's crazy diet."

She might have lost a lot more before that, but it wasn't a lie.

"I think your breasts are wonderful, Quinn," Rachel said so earnestly she couldn't help but grin. "No, I mean it. They're perfect. The way they feel in my hands . . ."

"Shush!" They were on the other side of the room but sound carried in here and Mercedes and Tina were just emerging from the steam filled showers. "Yours too," she whispered with a wink, "but shhh."

* * *

The Glee meeting was supposed to be a conciliatory affair, Mr Schue's idea to re-bond them because it hadn't occurred to him that they might have already done it themselves. Quinn hadn't expected Coach Sylvester to be there, and neither had Santana and Brittany judging by their expressions, but there she was, taking a seat.

She didn't crack a smile when Mr. Schuester admitted he was wrong about not taking the group's diversity into account, and really that should have been a warning sign, but honestly Quinn was too busy realizing that if she turned her head just so, she could still face the front of class and see Rachel's knees beyond Finn's at the same time.

And so she was only just about concentrating when Mr. Schue said, "And Quinn is . . ."

She smiled automatically, expecting something like 'Christian', or 'Model student' or 'Awesome' to come out of his mouth.

"Pregnant," Coach Sylvester finished for him.

Lesbian would have been better, she thought, but it was through a haze that made even blinking difficult. She heard several gasps around her, felt Finn take her hand and squeeze it tight. Was he trying to comfort her, or was he freaking out too?

"Sorry, Q, it'll be all over the blogosphere this afternoon and then everyone will know . . . including me."

She should apologize, she'd let her down. Coach had believed in her, given her the highest power and she'd let her down!

The words wouldn't come though, no words would. She could feel Finn's hand holding hers and every eye on her and a hand cupped her shoulder from behind, she thought it might be Matt but she didn't turn to see. Coach Sylvester spoke again but the words were mangled, like they were coming from under water, and then she was gone.

Quinn just sat there.

The other kids left slowly, one by one, all offering platitudes she didn't really hear. Everyone was going to know . . . everyone was going to _know_! Her brain rushed through plots that could save her, or at least delay the inevitable, but it was useless if Sue already knew.

Soon she was left in the choir room with Finn, who still hadn't let go of her hand and she was gripping his just as hard, and Rachel and Puck.

"It'll be okay," Rachel said, when no one else seemed ready to speak.

"Yeah, and it's not like you're the first girl to get knocked up here," Puck added. "The school probably has its own maternity club!"

"I'm gonna get creamed," Finn muttered to himself.

And while it was insensitive and the other two glared at him, Quinn totally respected it, because Finn was the only one on her wavelength right now. They _were_ going to get creamed, and everyone else could sugar-coat is much as they liked, it was still going to happen.

"I need to go." She kept hold of Finn's hand as she stood and made for the door, and he followed willingly.

"Quinn?"

"Not _now_ , Stubbles."

Quinn left the room, knowing she shouldn't have called Rachel that, especially right now, but extenuating circumstances, right? Rachel would understand. Right now she didn't even care, because her eyes were welling up and she couldn't control the need to bawl her eyes out for much longer.

She wasn't even exaggerating, because a few minutes later she was tucked against Finn's chest, crying her stupid heart out over everything, not even caring that they were in the middle of the hall.

* * *

Rachel watched Quinn cry from across the corridor. Finn was holding her against him, rubbing her back and muttering soothing words about how it was all going to be okay and she felt a spark of jealousy that she wasn't in his place but it faded, her heart breaking even more when Finn helplessly met her eyes.

He looked close to tears himself, a little boy lost, having to bear his owns fears as well as Quinn's and who was going to hold _him_ and murmur it was all going to be okay?

Rachel would, later, if she could, but first she had to find Jacob Ben Israel and shout at him for breaking his end of their deal and then tell him exactly how he was going to make this up to her, because she might not be able to hold Quinn in her arms and make it better, but she could do _something_ to ease her burden.

His explanation, as meekly delivered as it was, just made her even angrier. The thought of him keeping her underwear in his _locker_ all this time was, frankly, even more repulsive than the act of demanding them in the first place.

"I'm sorry, Rachel." Head down, he turned to walk away.

"I haven't finished!" He turned back to his locker, head still hanging in shame. "It's not me you should be apologizing to, but it _is_ me you made a deal with, a deal you have drastically failed to keep, which, I believe, means you owe me. Would you agree?"

He turned to face her now, like a slippered-puppy eager to make amends – if puppies could ever be as contemptible as Jacob. "Anything, Rachel!"

"Good. I need you to put something on your blog. A follow up on your Quinn story."

"But everybody knows I only do one entry a day. People don't like having their feeds clogged up and my followers appreciate my consistent consideration to their needs."

"You've made exceptions in the past."

"Only for breaking news on the hottest topics."

"Well, you already know Quinn's pregnancy is going to be the hottest topic your blog has ever seen and this can definitely be considered breaking news on the subject. Also, I'm not giving you a choice."

"Okay," he relented, excited again.

Tucked away in his 'office', which was a corner of the room at the back of the school library that had previously been the press room of the discontinued McKinley High ' _Muckraker'_ she told him word for word what she wanted him to write.

"But if I do that everyone is going to think you're a stone cold bitch, Rachel, instead of the selfless goddess you really are?" he pitifully pointed out.

"I don't care."

"Is it true?"

There was enough truth in it that she had no problem lying with conviction. "Yes, it is."

Now he looked like a kicked puppy, but she didn't care about that either. Much less so in fact. "Make sure it happens this afternoon, okay? Or there will be consequences I expect you will find quite unpleasant."

She left him standing there before he could ask what they would be, because she didn't know yet, but if he didn't do as he was told she was vaguely thinking about enlisting Noah Puckerman's help.

She'd had another idea while trying to find Jacob. Talking to Mr Schuester about it made her ten minutes late for fifth period, but he had agreed at once and even wrote her a note to cover her tardiness.

So a few minutes into sixth period she arrived in the auditorium to find Noah, Mercedes, Artie, Finn and Mike already there.

"I found the music for the song you talked about, Rachel," Mr. Schuester said, handing her a copy as she walked up the steps to the stage.

Finn was already running through his lines, Mercedes was helping him out by taking her part for now, but he stopped long enough to say, "This was an awesome idea, Rach. Thanks."

"Hey, I'm just grateful you got me out of sixth period Math," Mercedes said, grinning, "But the song _is_ a good choice too."

She nodded, smiling at both of them, before turning to watch as Mike demonstrated to Puckerman and Artie the choreography he was coming up with on the fly.

Brittany and Santana arrived next.

"Hear we got you to thank for the free period, Midget."

"It's not free, Santana, you'll be paying for it in sweat. We have less than an hour to make this spectacular and there will be no slacking off."

"Whatev's. So where's everyone else?"

"Kurt has gone on a mission to thrift stores to procure us all costumes and Tina and Matt are both in U.S. Geography with Quinn. They're aware of what we're doing but obviously they couldn't join us without making her suspicious."

Brittany had already gone to join Mike, easily picking up and adding to his dance routine and now Santana, having already exceeded her limit of civil conversation for one day, went to help.

Rachel walked over to where Mr. Schuester was talking to Brad about the musical arrangement. "Thank you for letting us do this. I know getting us all out of class may have repercussions for you but it really means a lot to all of us to be able to do this for Quinn."

"Hey, if Coach Sylvester can do it for the Cheerios three times a day, I can do it for us every now and then, right?" he smiled to show she shouldn't worry about it, but then grew more serious as he stepped away from the piano to speak to her in private. "How is Quinn coping? Finn said she was pretty upset."

"I don't know. I haven't spoken to her about it personally." He gave her a look meant to draw her out but what was she supposed to add? "I'm telling the truth."

"Oh. I thought you two had made up already, what with you suggesting we do this."

She frowned, "Made up what?"

"You _know_ . . . uh, _you_ and Quinn," he said, uncomfortable with the emphasis he was putting on certain words.

She wasn't as confused as she wanted to be, but she honestly didn't know how he _knew_ about them. He had implied that Quinn had told him everything about the falsified incident in the bathroom but Rachel had assumed he'd been misled into believing that. That in fact he'd been given a story similar to the one Quinn had told the spectators at last Friday's football game, about manipulation and misunderstandings.

Had that not been the case? Had Quinn actually _told_ him about them?

She didn't know how to feel about that. On the one hand she wanted to beam with pride and drag Mr. Schuester to the back of the auditorium to gush about Quinn like they were friends and not teacher and the other hand, she felt uncomfortable at him, or anyone, knowing something so private between them, especially because it was over now and she felt a little stupid at being so heartbroken over it.

In the end, the simple fact that she didn't have time to think about it solved the dilemma.

"Quinn and I are in an _off_ -stage position in our friendship right now, Mr. Schue, but that doesn't mean she doesn't still need our support. Now, if you'll excuse me, I really should go and practice with Finn before Mercedes thinks that my part is actually hers for the taking."

Kurt called from his car twenty minutes later, requesting help, and Noah and Mike went to see what was up. The three of them came back laden down with bags of clothing. It was a mismatched affair and some of the sizes were a little off but Kurt had done well in the short time and they'd all be wearing black and white at least.

Tina came rushing into the auditorium with ten minutes to go. "I g-got a bathroom p-pass," she said excitedly. "Matt's going to bring Q-Quinn with him when the b-bell goes."

"Okay people, that means we barely have any time left! Back into our starting positions now!" Rachel said, clapping her hands to hurry them along. "Tina, there are clothes waiting for you in the wings. Don't take too long, you need to learn the routine as quickly as possible!"

* * *

Impromptu Glee meeting, Matt had said.

Quinn had had enough of those to last her the rest of the month but he'd been insistent to the point of physically taking her hand and dragging her most of the way while she protested.

Rachel had been waiting just inside the double doors and Matt had given her a wide smile before heading to the stage, where Quinn could see everyone else waiting. Rachel gestured for her to move away from the green light of the exit sign to the almost-darkness of the penultimate tier of seats.

"Okay, here are your clothes," she handed over a bulging plastic bag. "And please don't be upset that Finn and I are singing another duet."

"What?"

"Don't worry about not having had time to practice," Rachel continued. "We've kept the steps very simple and I'm positive you'll know the song well enough to join in the chorus."

"What song?"

Rachel smiled, "You'll see. Come on, you need to get changed."

She changed behind the stage, hidden behind the curtains, into the white top and black pants. When she emerged, nervously, because _what_ was going on? She noticed that Matt had changed his clothes too.

It was Finn who stepped forward to guide her into place next to Rachel and then Brad began plucking out the intro. She didn't know the song, not immediately, but when everyone started 'oh, oh, oh-ing' around her and Rachel turned to whisper, "Just follow my lead, sweetheart, okay?" she felt a surge of emotion blossom bright in her chest.

" _You're not alone,_

 _Together we'll stand._

 _I'll be by your side,_

 _You know I'll take your hand."_

Quinn returned Rachel's smile tremulously but then had to look up as Finn stepped up.

" _And when it gets cold,_

 _And it feels like the end_

 _And there's no place to go,_

 _You know I won't give in._

 _No I won't give in,"_ he harmonized with Rachel.

The chorus began and she did know it, and by watching those around her she could follow the steps flawlessly despite the ache in her chest.

" _Keep holding on,_

' _Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through,_

 _Just stay strong,_

 _Because you know we're here for you, we're here for you . . ."_

 _There's nothing you can say,_

 _Nothing you can do_

 _There's no other way_

 _When it comes to the truth,_

 _So keep holding on_

' _Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through . . ._

She could tell Rachel was singing to Finn as much as to her, the way their eyes locked as they turned with each other made it impossible to deny, but it was okay and besides Rachel's eyes were joining with hers much more often.

Strangely it was turning with Artie that almost broke her. The honest to God compassion shining in the eyes of a boy she'd never given the time of day to before tugged at her heart and if that hadn't been bad enough the tender smile on Kurt's face when they danced together was nearly her undoing.

Somehow she kept it together, despite catching the eye of everyone she was taking her dance cues from. Puck gave her a wink – and not the salacious kind for once – Santana a friendly smirk, Brittany gently tugged her hair, whispering, "Love you, Q," as she danced behind her, and even Mike gave her a sympathetic smile as they passed each other.

And then . . .

" _Here me when I say, when I say, I believe_

 _Nothings gonna change, nothings gonna change destiny_

 _Whatever's meant to be will work out perfectly_

 _Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah . . ._

 _So keep holding on."_

Rachel passed by her as she sang and despite Quinn's best efforts her natural desire won out and their eyes met powerfully, catching the breath in her chest. Rachel didn't let the eye-contact linger though as she continued down the stage but before Quinn had time to miss it they were face to face again and Rachel was singing just to her.

" _Keep holding on . . ."_

The next part of the choreography was clear, everyone around her was holding hands for the final chorus. She could feel Finn's hand sliding down from her elbow and out of the corner of her eye could see he was doing the same to Rachel, it was obviously planned that way.

At the last moment she rebelled, thrusting her hand to the side, dodging Finn's. She didn't even have to grope for what she wanted, Rachel met her halfway, clasping their hands together securely.

" _Just keep holding on . . ._

 _Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through."_


	13. Chapter 13

Hey, thanks for all the reviews! You guys rock :) I had to cut this chapter in half because I noticed just as I was about to post it that I'd messed up the POV at the end. Grrr. Upside, the next chapter will be up as soon as I've fixed it.

Chapter title is from the Avril Lavigne song: Keep Holding On.

* * *

 **Chapter Thirteen:**

 **Whatever's Meant To Be Will Work Out Perfectly.**

When the song was over she forced a thank you out through her closing throat and then fled the auditorium before any of them could see her give into yet more tears.

Rachel called after her but she didn't know if anyone tried to follow because she _ran -_ and even carrying what could grow to be a ten pound baby she was still fast - down the empty corridors until she was locked in the bathroom behind the gym.

She was still there fifteen minutes later, sitting on the closed lid of a toilet with a wad of damp, crumpled tissues in her hand, when a beep signalled that she had a new text. As always the first name that sprang to mind was an impossible one. How had they even made it this far without exchanging cell phone numbers? But then again this thing might have felt like it had been going on forever but they'd only been anything worthy of note for . . .

 _Oh, God,_ a chuckle hurt her raw throat as she realised this was actually their one week anniversary. Another chuckle, this one bitter and hurting even more when she realised they'd been broken up for more than half of it. The most intense relationship of her life and it had only officially lasted three days!

Maybe she just wasn't cut out for intense. Bland and predictable might not have held the appeal it did a month ago, but at least it was reliable and she and Finn were just heading into their seventh month to prove it. Speaking of her boyfriend, that was probably him checking she was okay now.

Her frown deepened when she saw it from Santana instead. Did she really want to read it? She couldn't imagine it said anything particularly nice and she was so exhausted any anger she might normally feel would just to turn to increased melancholy and she just _didn't_ have the energy for more tears.

Curiosity winning, she pressed _read_ anyway.

 _Just read JBI's 'breaking news'. Very interesting. You two are gonna give me whiplash. Not that I believe it for a second but I'm willing to let everyone else believe it, for now ;)_

What and . . . _what_?

There was more breaking news about her? Hadn't that slimy little bastard already ruined her enough for one day? There was no way she was going to text back asking for details, because this was still Santana and she was likely to mess with her just for fun – she already was if that wink was anything to go by – but Quinn had to find out somehow and soon what Santana was going to let everyone believe _for now_.

She didn't have the internet on her phone, her Dad wouldn't allow such easy access to the evils out there on the World Wide Web, but she couldn't wait until she got home. She had Cheerios practice before that and she needed to know what was going on, to be prepared for it, before she faced anyone else.

The computer science lab would be locked by now but, hey, she had a key.

She saw a few groups of kids on the way there, it was a game night and that always meant loiterers hanging out in the Cafeteria or the Quad, those students who saw no reason to go home just to come back a few hours later. Most of them stared at her as she passed before clumping to talk about her like she couldn't hear them. Or maybe they just didn't care anymore if she did.

She heard snatches of: " _But how did she get pregnant if she's a . . ."_ and " _Bet he ain't even the dad, everyone knows that Berry's a tranny . . ."_ and " _But why let that freak blackmail her? I'da just broken her jaw so she_ couldn't _tell anyone . . ."_

Still frowning over that one, because . . . what? she sent up a silent prayer of thanks that the hallway leading to the computer science lab was empty and unlocked the door with her master key. She played with the bank of light-switches a few times until she had only the area right at the back illuminated. That should help her escape detection but she wasn't that worried about being caught. If it happened she would just say that the door had been open when she arrived and no teacher was going to be upset with _her_ if she explained she was using her free time before practice to do her _homework_. They'd probably give her an Outstanding Student Award or something.

With that in mind she pulled out her history essay - which she _did_ need to type up at some point - before firing up Google and typing the name of Jacob's blog into the search engine.

It only took seconds to load and then she was looking at the Recent Entries page. Her name was in the headlines and the tags of the last two entries and she bit her bottom lip hard enough to sting before clicking 'Read More' on the oldest one.

Jacob's 'articles' were never very long - no doubt designed that way to keep the limited attention span of the McKinley High students - and this one was no different. Amid a few of paragraphs of what Jacob probably thought of as great literary prose were the facts (as he knew them). Quinn Fabray, President of the Celibacy Club, was pregnant. The father was Finn Hudson, also a member of the Celibacy Club. The exact nature of the conception was speculated but there was no mention of hot tubs so his source definitely wasn't Finn or anyone he might have trusted that fabrication with. It called into question her future on the Cheerios and her standing as 'Queen Bee' but most of it was just flannel and his over-excited imagination running away with itself.

Not that that mattered. By tomorrow everyone in school would have read this. They'd all know she was pregnant. They'd all think she was a hypocritical slut.

She felt tears coming _again_ but she slammed them back with the heels of her hands, pressing them into her eyes until she got control of herself and then clicked on the link for the latest _Breaking News._

 _Folks, it would appear that we have been lied to as the ongoing saga of Christ Crusader, Quinn Fabray and her Unplanned Teen Pregnancy continues to unravel._

 _Sources close to Quinn Fabray have informed me that, contrary to popular belief, she is not in fact to blame for last week's scandalous kiss with the beautiful Rachel Berry._

 _Naturally on hearing this I dug deeper for the real scoop and managed to corner the stunning Miss Berry for an interview._

 _JBI: Is it true that you were in fact the initiator of last Tuesday's passionate lip-lock with one Quinn Fabray in the girl's bathroom?_

 _RB: No!_

 _JBI: Really? Because I have two sources that say you were and that you made Quinn Fabray cover for you by threatening to out her current condition. That condition being . . ._

 _RB: Fine! It was me! It's all my fault!_

 _JBI: So you admit . . ._

 _RB: Yes! Can you leave me alone now please?_

 _JBI: Just a few follow up questions, Miss Berry._

 _RB: Fine. Make them quick or I'm going to be late for sixth period._

 _JBI: Why did you try and kiss Quinn Fabray at the alleged time?_

 _RB: [Blushing erotically] I've always wanted to. We were . . . in a suitable position, in a locked bathroom together, and I took a chance. It was misguided. However it was NOT while she was being sick! It was after, when we were about to leave. So if you're going to write any of this in your horrible blog please at least include that. I will not have people thinking I tried to molest the girl while she was vomiting!_

Quinn, smiling at the computer screen, suddenly jerked back from it, startled by a door slamming closed and feet rushing towards her.

Rachel looked just as surprised to come face to face with her as she rounded the last of the partitions. "Oh. I didn't know you were in here."

Heartbeat settling back down, Quinn quirked an eyebrow. "You blushed _erotically_?"

"Uh, I don't know." She was blushing now, but it was more cute than erotic. "I haven't read it yet. I was actually just coming to do so."

Quinn nodded her head to gesture her closer, asking quietly, "Why didn't you go home and read it?"

Rachel pulled the wheelie chair at the next station over so that they could sit beside each other. "I talked to Finn until he had to go to practice," she sounded nervous about the admission but Quinn couldn't fault her honesty. "And then I checked all of the bathrooms to find you, but you weren't in any of them. I was just going to check the parking lot to see if your car was still there when I passed Santana and she told me my 'interview' was up. She smiled at me, it was very disturbing."

"Yeah, no one has a vicious smile quite like Santana."

" _No,_ it was almost friendly! That was what was so disturbing about it. So I came straight here to read it." She paused for several seconds before asking hesitantly, "So what does it say?"

"That you blushed erotically while talking about kissing me," Quinn teased.

Rachel glared at the computer screen. "I never told him to say that!"

They read the rest of the 'interview' together.

 _JBI: So kissing Quinn Fabray has been a long standing fantasy of yours?_

 _RB: Yes, I suppose you could say that._

 _JBI: And so when she didn't return your affections you . . ._

 _RB: Grew angry, yes. I was severely disappointed and I was scared that she would use it to make fun of me in front of everyone, which she did, in Glee Club, and so I took defensive measures before it could spread to the whole school._

 _JBI: Which were?_

 _RB: I'm going to be late for sixth period!_

 _JBI: Miss Berry, please answer the question._

 _RB: I told her that if she didn't clear my name and make it apparent that in fact she had tried to kiss me, I would tell the whole school she was pregnant._

 _JBI: So you already knew of the illegitimate pregnancy?_

 _RB: Yes. All of Glee Club did._

 _JBI: But you were the only one willing to use it against her?_

 _RB: Yes._

 _JBI: Because she spurned your advances?_

 _RB: Yes!_

 _JBI: So you blackmailed Quinn Fabray into telling the whole school that she tried to kiss you, just to get revenge?_

 _RB: Yes! Can this be over now please?_

 _JBI: But why didn't Quinn Fabray just crush you like a bug like she has so many times before?_

 _RB: Honestly? I don't know. She probably didn't think anyone would believe it anyway. I mean, you'd have to be pretty stupid to think that Quinn is a lesbian at all, let alone one that wants to kiss me!_

 _JBI: So when you tried to kiss her, did your, like, lips actually touch?_

 _[The talented Rachel Berry refuses to answer any more questions]_

 _So, you heard it hear first folks, Quinn Fabray is not a lesbian but the more depressing news is that the gorgeous Rachel Berry is._

"I never told him to say that I was a lesbian!"

"I think he actually has a bigger crush on you than I do."

They turned from the screen at the same time to smile at each other.

"So, as subtle grand gestures go . . . you've just set the bar ridiculously high. First the song, now this. I'm never going to be able to top them the next time _I_ piss _you_ off."

Rachel smiled, "You could organise a pep-rally, have the marching band play while you tell everyone that, actually, you tried to kiss me in the bathroom and was just blackmailing me into saying I blackmailed you."

Quinn nodded a few times as she processed the idea. "Yeah, I think the easier plan is to just not piss you off anymore."

"If only."

Smirking at that, she leaned over to give Rachel a soft kiss on the lips. "Thank you. For both. But aren't you worried about everyone thinking you're gay now?"

Rachel shrugged, "A little. I don't think I'm quite ready to come out because, well, this school is barbaric, but Kurt's already done so and while we're not friends I do take a little comfort from that."

Quinn looked at her knees. "Now you're making me feel bad."

"No, don't." Rachel put a hand on her shoulder. "I did this because I wanted to, ready or not, and you have more than enough to deal with already. You don't need the added pressure right now. Maybe after the baby's born . . . or not, it's up to you, but right now you don't need it and I'm sorry I put you in that position in the first place."

Quinn closed her eyes for a moment before looking up to catch Rachel's. "We're in this together. I _can't_ come out, but I'm still with you one hundred percent."

That didn't get the happy reaction she was hoping for. In fact, Rachel looked away, back at the computer screen before dropping her eyes to stare at the mouse like it was going to sprout legs and run away.

"What's wrong?"

"That's exactly what I wanted to hear."

"Then why aren't you blushing erotically and kissing me?" she asked, attempting teasing but coming up nervous.

Rachel turned back to her, her face serious, and took her hands in her own. "You don't need any more complications in your life, Quinn. We both already knew that but I guess it took everything blowing up in our faces for me to really understand it."

"What are you saying?"

"That you don't need a secret female lover right now as much as you need a friend. And I would like to be that friend."

A twinge of panic tightened her chest. "That's not what I want."

"I know. It's not what I want either, but it's for the best. You need to concentrate on you and the baby and Finn and you can't do that if you're more focused on trying to hide our . . . thing."

"Not thing, _relationship_!" she said, because, _fuck it_ , if there was ever a time for laying her cards on the line. "We have a relationship, Rachel! This might only be our one week anniversary but that doesn't mean it's not real."

Rachel smiled, cheeks colouring a little, "I hadn't even realised. Sorry. It's not like I don't think about you every minute, it's just so much has happened in the last week that . . . I guess I forgot about the big milestone."

Quinn's eyes narrowed, was she being sarcastic? She didn't sound like it but . . . maybe getting excited about a week was a little girly, especially as they hadn't been together for most of it.

Ignoring her doubts, she pushed ahead. "I have Cheerios practice in a little while and then the game tonight but I thought we could maybe do something after, together, to celebrate."

Rachel looked uncomfortable again. "You're still on the Cheerios?"

"Yeah. Mr. Schue passed all of the cheerleaders this afternoon, apparently there was a make-up test," she rolled her eyes. "And Coach needs me to keep the status quo. I'm pretty sure she just hasn't had a chance to check out how much trouble she might be in discrimination-wise if she drops me just for being pregnant yet, but I'm trying to think positive."

"You should."

"You don't look like you're thinking very positive right now."

"I'm only going to make your life harder, Quinn."

She couldn't deny that. Look how much harder things had been just in the last few weeks because of Rachel. But look how much better it had been too! It was a mixed bag and if she _had_ to feel this attraction anyway, then she wanted it all, otherwise what was the point?

"I don't want to be just your friend."

Rachel seemed to take a moment to compose herself before saying, "Maybe not, but it's for the best, for now."

Anger or maybe desperation, or both, flooded her. "Rachel, I _won't_ just be your friend!"

Rachel was suddenly equally annoyed, "Well, I'm sorry my friendship alone is so unappealing to you."

"That's not what I meant!"

"It sounded like it!"

Jesus Christ! (Sorry, J) How could she possibly have even more tears to come out?

Rachel's arms were around her neck in an instant, pulling her close over the gap between their chairs.

"I'm doing this for you, Quinn? Do you think I want to let you go?"

"Then don't!" she sobbed into Rachel's neck, hating herself so much for showing this much weakness but she couldn't help it. It was like the baby had a tear duct in each hand and was squeezing them with abandon.

Today had been _horrific_ already and the thought of Rachel not being there at the end of it . . .? She couldn't _deal_ with that!

"Listen to me." Quinn shook her head against her neck. " _Listen_ to me, sweetheart. You need to focus on you and Finn and the baby right now and I am going to be there _every_ step of the way, I promise." Rachel kissed the side of her head and held her tighter. "But I can't do that if I'm constantly second guessing your feelings for me, or getting jealous over Finn, and that's what I've been doing. That's why we didn't even make it a week."

"I'm sorry," she mumbled against Rachel's neck.

"You have no reason to apologise. You were already in this situation before I started having feelings for you and I knew what I was going in to. Admittedly I didn't think it through, but that's my fault not yours."

Quinn sniffed a few times, pulling herself together, and possibly wiping her nose on Rachel's cardigan at the same time, before sitting back enough to make eye contact.

"Do you regret it?"

"No."

It was the look of conviction in her eyes more than the word that made Quinn believe her. "So what now? I can't be your friend, Rachel."

"Why not?"

"Because how would we be? The rules in school still have to stand and outside of school . . ." she trailed off because admitting she couldn't hang with Rachel outside of school without wanting to kiss her was just too embarrassing.

"We'll figure it out."

"I don't think we can."

Rachel folded her hands in her lap, looking hurt and resigned and annoyed all in one carefully controlled expression. "Okay."

"Okay?" She allowed herself to hope. "Okay, you'll come and watch me cheer at the game and we'll go on our second date afterwards? Breadstix do a few vegetarian options . . ." Rachel's eyes brightened a little, a tiny smile curling her lips and Quinn felt her confidence grow. ". . . we could get take out and go back to our spot."

The smile curled downwards. "In the freight yards? Quinn, as much as I love the fact that we have 'a spot', it's not exactly . . ."

"We can go to your place then!" God, she sounded desperate. "We can get enough for your parents too. Plus I owe your Dad an arm wrestling match."

Rachel returned her grin. "Can we do that just as friends?"

"That depends. Can we be the type of friends who go up to your room after dinner and kiss on your bed and maybe sneak their hands under your shirt a little now that they know for sure you're wearing the appropriate underwear?"

Rachel chuckled softly, shaking her head no.

"Are you sure? This might be the last time you get to make out with the head cheerleader and I _know_ you like the uniform."

"I do. It's very sexy on you."

Quinn felt familiar warmth pool in her stomach as Rachel's eyes casually trailed down her body, her heated gaze lingering where the red pleats of the skirt met her pale thigh before looking back up. The look on Quinn's face caused Rachel to giggle, at first, but she was holding nothing back this time, letting her eyes speak for her whole body and it must have made Rachel nervous because she made a show of clearing her throat and looking away as she added,

"But it might surprise you to learn that I enjoy seeing you out of your uniform even more."

"What?" she blurted, and she had no idea what her eyes were saying now because how did you express the desire to laugh, scold and pounce on a girl all at the same time? She grinned, "You really were sneaking peeks in the shower, weren't you?"

"Oh, _Barbra_! No, Quinn!" Rachel giggled again, sounding scandalised by the idea. "I meant I like seeing you in regular clothes. You always seem more relaxed when you're not wearing that uniform. What's gotten into you today to make your mind so unusually lewd?"

"You're trying to give me the 'Let's just be friends' speech and I'm trying to convince you that just being friends is a _terrible_ idea," she replied easily. "Now, I haven't had time to put together a pro and con list yet—" she smirked as Rachel glared at her "—but consider this the big finale to the make-believe PowerPoint presentation I just gave you."

With a little tug Rachel's chair swivelled around and rolled the few inches needed to put them side on. Keeping a grip on the chair, her other hand slipped beneath soft hair to the back of Rachel's neck, applying just enough pressure to encourage Rachel to lean her way, close enough so that . . .

She brushed her lips over Rachel's, just revelling in the feel of having them against her own again for a moment and giving the girl a chance to say no or pull away if she wanted.

Only for a moment though . . .

* * *

To be continued, real soon.

Thanks for reading.


	14. Chapter 14

My excuse/reason this time for the long gap between updates is more valid than usual, because my laptop died at the end of March and I only just got a new one! So I'm sorry for leaving you all hanging but I really couldn't do anything about it. Thanks to everyone who left me reviews and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

 **Chapter Fourteen:**

 **When You Know It's Wrong But You Wish So Much It Was Right.**

With a firmer kiss to Rachel's pursed lips and then another and another it wasn't long before Rachel couldn't resist meeting her halfway and then there were no interludes and their lips were moving and pressing together in a way that was still so new it set Catherine Wheels spinning behind her closed eyes and in her stomach but was also a familiar rhythm now that was just _theirs_.

Rachel's mouth slipped open first to let out an _mmm_ of appreciation and Quinn followed suit to take the sound in and swallow it, to keep it forever, and now they were kissing in that way that always led to her becoming a hot mess in minutes but she didn't care because she _knew_ this wasn't going to change Rachel's mind, not in the long run, and so she was going to get as much out of the short run as she could.

Rachel's hands were latched on tight, massaging her shoulders in time with the motion of her lips. Quinn splayed hers over Rachel's ribs, thumbs brushing back and forth and bunching the white cotton of her top in a way that had Rachel sliding a hand behind her neck to keep her _right there_ as she whimpered against her lips with every stroke until they both had to pull away and gasp for air.

"That was . . ." Rachel panted, letting her forehead fall gently against Quinn's. "Wow, we just keep getting better at that, don't we?"

"We do. Which is why we shouldn't stop."

"Quinn, you know it's for the best . . ."

"Okay. Do you know what's even better than best?"

"What?"

"Not stopping."

The plastic armrests on their chairs tap-tapped together as Quinn pulled her back in, close, until they were connected by lips and breasts and then her hands slid down to Rachel's hips, trying to pull her closer still. Rachel obliged, shifting forward to the edge of her seat, but . . . How dirty was the carpet in here likely to be? Because this was great, but not really comfortable.

Before she could suggest anything, or bypass suggesting and shove a computer to the floor to make room for Rachel on a desk, the warmth of a hand on her knee distracted her.

It was tempting to leave it there, to see where that wandering hand intended to travel, she could already imagine the blazing trail it would cause as it slid up her thigh, up and under . . .

She pulled back from the kiss, chuckling breathlessly and covering the hand with her own. "Rachel, move it or lose it."

"No, wait."

"Wait for what? You to power up your time machine and take us eight and three-quarter weeks into the future?"

Rachel frowned, confused until such a specific time-length jogged her memory and she gently squeezed Quinn's knee. "Oh, no, not for that. Although that would be nice," she added with a flirty smile. "No, I just . . . Are you sure about this? About us . . . continuing?"

"I feel like I've made my thoughts on the matter pretty clear, but if you need even greater clarification . . ." She caught plump lips in a very clarifying kiss. "Convinced?"

Rachel nodded, "But what about Finn?"

She frowned, "I don't think it's a good idea for me to convince Finn that you and I belong together . . ." laughing, she pulled her hand back from Rachel's when her arm was slapped.

"I'm serious! I care deeply about you, Quinn, and I _want_ to be with you, but I need to know you're aware of just how much more complicated this is going to make things _for you_. And, honestly, I don't want to get hurt if or more likely when our bubble gets burst again, because you have a tendency to take things out on me and that _does hurt,_ Quinn."

"I know. I'm sorry." Quinn gave her a light peck and then 'pinged' with a brilliant idea, it might have been a slightly evil one too, but those were what she was best at. "Here, let me make it up to you."

She took Rachel's hand from her knee and placed it further up her thigh, just below her Cheerios skirt and then sat back enough to enjoy the show.

Brown eyes went wide, a jaw fell showing lots of perfect, white teeth as a pink tongue poked out to wet those beautiful lips and then Rachel started stammering over words that . . . well, there didn't seem to be any actual words, just one long chorus of, "Uh, um, ah, um, oh, uh." She may have caught an, _Oh, Barbra!"_ in there too but she wasn't sure.

"So, I'm going to assume that had the desired effect."

Rachel got it together enough to look up with a slightly manic smile on her face. "I thought we had a no touching below the waist rule?"

"Oh, we do," she smirked, "but for one night only we also have a 'touching _below_ the skirt is okay' rule too."

That manic smile was only getting worse as Rachel swooped back in to reclaim her mouth and Quinn just had time to mumble, "That's below the skirt, Rachel, not _under_!"

Rachel pulled her hand back down an inch with a mumbled, "Oops, sorry!"

She didn't _sound_ sorry.

Several minutes later it was harder to mind so much that those fingers kept creeping up, tracing patterns on the inside of her thigh before remembering themselves and jerking back down to the safe-zone. It might have had something to do with just how _good_ they felt teasing her skin. Their positions were getting increasingly awkward, now that she had one tennis shoe up on the edge of Rachel's chair, between her spread knees, so that Rachel could stroke her thigh and she could palm Rachel's breast through her white cotton top and they could still get close enough to hold each other tightly with their free arms while they kissed and kissed some more. The Karma Sutra it wasn't and Quinn's other knee was getting bullied by the plastic edge of Rachel's chair and Rachel just had to be getting a crick in her neck from the angle she was leaning in but neither of them were thinking for a second about stopping, even wasting time to just reorganise their cramping limbs would be a sin at this point.

"We should . . . we should continue this somewhere not at school."

"I have, um, I have practice."

"When?"

"I don't know. Now?"

"Can't you . . . Oh, goodness."

"What?"

"My nipple apparently reeealy likes that."

Quinn snorted and sucked Rachel's bottom lip between her own for a moment, grazing it with her tongue. "No, I meant what were you going to say?"

"Oh. Skip it. Practice, I mean."

"I would but I can't afford to piss Coach off anymore."

"Come on, how much do you... do you _really_ like being head cheerleader anyway?" Rachel joked, bringing her short nails into play on Quinn's thigh.

It might have been a joke but the sudden deluge in her underwear wasn't. It was a warning sign, a big, fat neon sign saying STOP but that wasn't what she wanted to do. She wanted to pull Rachel closer still, to run her tongue over that gorgeous bottom lip again as she kissed her and to pull that hand further up her thigh to feel it where she needed it most . . .

She did all of that except the last one, because, well, she still wasn't quite ready for that mentally even if her body was all _go, go, go!_ But she was fully prepared to blow off practice. With Kassie and the others back on the squad it was going to be miserable for her anyway and this . . . _this_. . . was anything but miserable.

She _needed_ this like . . . like _air_!

"If I don't go to practice I have a couple of hours before the game."

"I'm in."

"We could drive to the fre-freight yards," she stuttered as Rachel's fingers trailed up a little higher than they had before. She knew she should push them down again. Knowing and doing? Two different things. She swallowed, hard. "Get in the back seat."

"Or we could go to mine." Rachel arched her back, pushing into Quinn's hand as much as she could without moving too far from her lips. "I have a bed."

"No beds!" she blurted without thinking.

Rachel chuckled, "Fine, we can _hang out_ on the floor."

"I'm starting to think . . . you don't like the backseat . . . of my car," Quinn said between kisses.

"I love . . . the backseat of your car." Rachel copied her. "But my Dads won't be home . . . until seven tonight. And it'll be . . . warmer."

Quinn grinned as she repeated Rachel's earlier words, "I'm in."

"Okay, we'll go in a minute."

She nodded, forehead pressed to Rachel's. "Yeah, in a minute."

They spent the minute kissing, obviously, and Quinn both couldn't wait to get to Rachel's and couldn't stand the thought of stopping what they were doing now. Because it felt so _good_. It was perfect, and what if it wasn't later. What if Rachel changed her mind again or it was awkward for some other reason? No, right now was really good and she wasn't ready to leave it behind just yet.

So they kissed and kissed, both muttering about leaving soon but neither of them making a move to do so as Quinn's other hand started feeling up Rachel's other breast and Rachel's handmade braver and longer journey's under her Cheerios skirt.

There was a faint click and a footstep and then suddenly she was blinking from the sudden brightness as every light in the room was flipped on.

Instinctively she pulled back and kicked out and Rachel's arms flailed as her wheelie chair zoomed away, spinning three times before hitting a desk six feet over just as the little Japanese janitor came into sight. He looked as shocked by their presence as she was by his.

Full on panic at getting caught with Rachel hit her but she had a plan, didn't she? She had a plan for getting caught in here.

"I was just do-doing my homework!" she insisted, seven shades of red as she leapt off of her chair and made a grab at her history essay notes, knocking most of the loose leaf pages to the floor in her panic. "See! Homework, I have, um."

"I see." He gave her a big beaming smile and then turned to Rachel, bowing slightly at the waist. "Hello, Homework."

Rachel put her hand over her mouth, muffling her laughter and her, "Hello, Mr Ziacki."

She could tell Quinn wasn't seeing the funny side at all. She had a fixed scowl on her face as she finished snatching up her scattered pages from the floor. She crunched them up in her left hand as she straightened up to glare at the little man and used her right hand to point at him.

"Okay, I know how this goes." Rachel was puzzled when Quinn reached for her bag to fetch her purse. "What's the going rate for silence now? Twenty dollars?"

Oh for Barbra's sake! "Quinn," Rachel reprimanded her through her giggles.

"Stop it!" She focused on Mr. Ziacki again. "Thirty? I'll give you thirty dollars if you never mention to _anyone_ what you just saw."

He shook his head, grinning. "I can get a much better price for such sensitive information on the open market."

Quinn took a step towards him with a sugary smile. Rachel recognized it because it had been used on her more than once and the aftermath had always been unpleasant. But even _she_ couldn't believe what came out of Quinn's mouth next! "You're Chinese or something; a first generation immigrant, right? Do you think anyone will even care enough to drag the Creek if you go missing?"

"Quinn!" Rachel leapt out of the swivel chair and took the necessary three strides purposefully to take her hand and squeeze it hard. It must of hurt because she felt Quinn tense her hand and try to pull away, and not in the usual way. Good. She hoped it had hurt! "Please forgive her, Mr. Ziacki. The baby hormones are just making her extra cranky today. I trust the fact that I've always thought of us as friends will be enough to stop you from sharing what you may have witnessed here today with anyone. If not I would urge you to call to mind that persecution is the reason you fled your native country to come and make a life here – in a place where everyone is free to live without unnecessary judgement."

"Of course, Miss. Berry," grinning, he bowed again. "And, please, remind your fathers about dinner next week. Mrs. Ziacki is fretting because she hasn't received yet an RSVP."

"An oversight on their part, I assure you," she promised. "I know they are looking forward to it. I'm only sorry I won't be able to come myself. But I'm sure you understand the full commitment high . . ."

Quinn gave her a look of disbelief, shook off her hand and stormed from the room.

". . . Oh, I guess we're leaving. Goodbye, Mr. Ziacki. I hope you have a pleasant evening."

As Rachel left the classroom Quinn was marching down the center of the hall and she stopped and just watched her go until she'd turned the corner, before following with a shake of her head.

Quinn was waiting for her at their lockers and seemed in a much better mood already. "Okay, so we won't be doing that in a _classroom_ again!"

Rachel stared at her with wide eyes. "You thought that was funny?"

"No, not at all. It was horrifying!"

" _Parts_ of it were," she agreed.

Quinn's eyes narrowed, "What do you mean by that?"

"You don't know?" The blank face she received answered it all. "You just threatened to kill the _Janitor_ , Quinn!"

"I didn't _mean_ it!" When Rachel didn't immediately take her words at face value Quinn threw a hand up. "Obviously I wasn't being serious! It was a joke!"

"It was a joke?" she repeated slowly and Quinn nodded impatiently. "I don't get it."

"What do you mean: _you don't get it_? What is there to get?"

"The funny part. The part where questioning someone's relevance to our society based on their ethnicity is amusing. The part where threatening a man's life is . . ."

"Oh for goodness sake! It's not like I was actually going to kill him!"

"I know that, I hope!" she shot back, "but menacing a person into silence even with empty promises of violence _isn't_ a punchline, Quinn!"

"Okay, I'm sorry. It was a mean thing to do. Can we go back to your house now?"

"I don't think so."

"Oh come on, Rachel. If we don't leave now we won't even make it up the stairs to your room before I have to be back here again." When Rachel shook her head, Quinn frowned. "We can talk about it more on the way if you really think we need to."

"I don't think _we_ need to talk about it anymore."

Quinn missed the emphasis and smiled, "Good. Me neither. So let's . . ."

"I think you need to talk to _someone_ about it though."

"You want me to apologize to the janitor." Quinn sighed and shrugged. "Fine. You're right. It's the right thing to do." She sighed again like she didn't really believe it, so maybe it was a little sweet that she was saying it to make her happy, but for Rachel _a little sweet_ didn't come close to take away the sour taste of what she had just witnessed. "So I'll go do that and you'll wait here?"

Would she?

"Unless you need to see me do it," Quinn chuckled and looked uncomfortable when Rachel didn't even crack a smile. "I'll be quick."

"A sincere apology . . ."

Quinn switched instantly to, "I'll take my time."

Rachel watched as she walked away. Quinn had made it to the corner when Rachel squeezed her eyes closed, shook her head and called out to her. Quinn turned quickly with a smile like she'd been hoping for this.

"You should apologize, because what you said wasn't nice, but I can't wait for you." There she'd said it.

The smile didn't drop because Quinn didn't get it, yet. "Why? Do you have somewhere better to be?"

No, not really. She was just going home with a breaking heart. To parents who loved her to the moon and back that she wouldn't be able to share it with because she wasn't allowed to tell anyone about this difficult, wonderful, terrifying, amazing thing that was happening in her life. To a lonely bedroom where no friends would call around because she had squandered the chance to have friends in Glee club by favoring Quinn too much. None of that had mattered when she'd felt deep down that she was doing the right thing, but now . . .

"I don't think we can do this anymore," she said, sniffing as she felt her eyes fill with moisture.

"What? Because I said something mean to a _janitor?_ Are you serious?"

"I think I am. It's not who you said it too, it's that you said it at all."

"But I didn't mean it!"

"But you still said it, Quinn!"

"So what!"

"Are you _that_ ashamed to like me that you feel the need to pretend-threaten to _kill_ someone?"

"What?" Quinn said again. "No!"

"Really? Because it feels like it."

"Really! I'm not thatashamed. I mean I'm not ashamed at all! . . . it's just . . . things are . . ."

"I know, complicated for you and you don't need the added pressure. You know I understand that. Can _you_ understand that it's hard for me too? To feel the way I do for someone who is so terrified of being associated with me that they will threaten someone's life over it?"

"Okay, I over-reacted . . ."

"You _always_ over-react, and I think that means this, us, however you want to define it, isn't good for either of us."

"Now who's over-reacting?"

"Am I? So what happens if Mr. Laxforth catches us swapping notes in class? Or if Ms. Hedges walks in on us talking in the gym one time? And what about Mr. Schuester? He knows, Quinn, he actually knows because _you_ told him. If he says something to anyone can I expect to see his face as I pour milk on my cereal?"

"Don't be stupid. They don't put missing persons on the side of soya . . ." Quinn wasn't even taking this seriously and Rachel turned on her heel. "Oh Rachel, stop! Mr. Schue isn't going to say anything. He's a teacher! They, like, take an oath or something. And I only told him because, you know, I had to tell _someone_."

Rachel stared at her incredulously and waited for the penny to drop. It didn't take long to realize it wasn't going to. So should she point out just how unfair that was? No, screaming wouldn't be good for her voice.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, "but I can't live with the fear of being caught anymore."

"Why? What do you have to worry about if we do get caught?" Quinn said snappishly. "Shouldn't that be my fear?"

"Apparently, and that's what scares me. Don't you get it? For as long as we hide this thing between us you're going to be jumping at every shadow!"

Quinn scowled. "You said you'd never demand that I come out."

Oh Barbra! How could someone so clever be so clueless sometimes? "And I never will!" Rachel looked at the door of her locker, but she didn't need anything in there enough to prolong this further. "I'll see you in Glee club on Monday, Quinn. Have a nice weekend."

Maybe Quinn watched her leave school with a forlorn look on her face. Rachel would never know because she didn't look back.


	15. Chapter 15

I'm sorry, I've had no internet at home for the past 6 weeks! It nearly killed me, I can tell you! I tried posting from my phone but that all went horribly wrong :( So anyway, here's the next chapter. It's unbeta'd - I'm still looking for a new beta if anyone is interested :) - and so possibly a bit sketchy in parts, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.

* * *

 **Chapter Fifteen: I Never know If I'm Right Or Wrong.**

The weekend had dragged by unbearably slowly for Rachel. Not that she wasn't used to spending much of her free time alone, but after the thrill and excitement of last weekend this one had just felt incredibly lonely.

It had been harder to fill her time than it usually was and she'd needed to fill it more than ever, to keep her mind busy and away from things it would do her no good to dwell on.

She'd had no concentration for homework, which resulted in three separate versions of her History essay, none of which she felt correctly answered the question set. She'd read through to the end of _The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. A_ lthough in hindsight that might have been better left to distract her from Quinn _in class_.

She'd doubled the lengths of her daily workouts until her lungs ached and her thighs begged for mercy.

She'd made two videos for MySpace, uploading one Friday night and the other on Sunday but she hadn't bothered checking back for comments on either of them – because what if there was one? And by the same reasoning she had stayed away from Facebook altogether. It wasn't as if her mood would be improved by living her social life vicariously through her Glee-mates status updates right now.

The rest of the weekend had been spent listlessly on the couch in the family room. Her thumb bouncing restlessly on the TV remote, changing the channel at random. Trying her best to forget that Quinn had been right there by her side just a week ago.

Now it was Monday morning and it was here too soon and why couldn't her lifeless weekend have just dragged on for eternity?

Squaring her shoulders, Rachel entered the school and made her way with a purposefulness she didn't feel through the chaotic corridors to her locker.

Finn was leaning there, waiting for her.

She instantly felt a little better. They'd had a very pleasant conversation on Friday following the performance of _Keep Holding On_ and re-capturing her friendship with her leading man might be the only bright spark she had left to _hold on_ to now and so she skipped the final distance to reach him with a beaming smile.

"Good morning, Finn. How was your weekend? I hope it was every bit as restful as mine. I feel quite energized and ready to tackle this week's Glee club assignment with gusto." She beamed even harder. "Perhaps we could work on it together, depending on the nature of it, of course."

"Wouldn't you rather work with Quinn?"

Her bubbly enthusiasm dropped at the tone of his question. "W-why would you think that?"

"Why do you think? I read your interview, Rachel. I can't believe you lied to me about it or that you'd do that to Quinn! I almost broke up with her because I thought _she'd_ cheated on me when it was you all along."

Oh boy. Stupidly she had neglected to plan for this and now that she was trying to think her way through it fast her brain was filling up with all the other things she had been deliberately not thinking about all weekend too – like how everyone once again thought it was she who had pounced on Quinn in the bathroom and naturally following that was the memory of how neither of them could pounce on the other anymore.

"I'm sorry, Finn. I truly didn't mean to hurt you with my actions."

"Just Quinn?"

"Exactly . . . No! I mean . . . I didn't really think about the consequences, I was scared and . . . and reacted in a way I'm not proud of." From the look on his face it wasn't enough. "I came clean in the end, doesn't that count for anything?"

"Only when you didn't have a choice."

"That's not . . ." True? It wasn't, but she had done an excellent job of making it look like it was. To deny it vehemently now would only confuse the matter even further. "Look," she checked her watch, "we have ten minutes before class, would you like to go somewhere private and talk about it in detail?"

"You want to tell me in detail how you _kissed_ my girlfriend? No thanks. I don't want to talk to you _at all_ right now."

Slamming his palm into her locker door so hard she was surprised he didn't leave a Hulk-sized handprint in the metal, he stormed off, leaving her to slump against them in his place. So much for picking up their friendship where they'd left it. The only upside was a lessening of the guilt she'd been carrying around with her for so long. Finn knew the worst, or the worst he could ever be allowed to know anyway, and somehow that served to alleviate a large amount of her culpability in deceiving him.

It was an extremely thin silver-lining though.

Squaring her shoulders _again,_ because Finn's anger was something she was just going to have to accept for now, she opened her locker and the waterworks that she had resolutely refused to give in to all weekend sprang forth like someone had turned her inner-faucets on full.

Grumpy Bear was waiting for her; a folded note propped up on his legs.

The outside of the note read: Free To A Good Gnome. Which made her laugh even as hot tears were coursing down her cheeks.

Leaning into her locker, she unfolded the note.

 _I figured you might need this little guy more than me right now. Finn's on the warpath about you trying to kiss me. I wanted to warn you earlier but you weren't on Facebook all weekend :(. Just avoid him if you can until I've managed to calm him down. I hope you're okay._

 _xx_

 _PS. I've been sleeping with him all week so I'm sorry if he smells like me._

Beneath that, hastily added in a different shade of ink was:

 _PPS: Grumpy Bear! I've been sleeping with Grumpy Bear, not Finn!_

 _x_

She laughed again because, well she didn't know what was more adorable, the thought of Quinn sleeping with a teddy bear or the thought of Quinn getting flustered thinking Rachel might get the wrong idea.

She tucked the note into a book at the back and then, shoulder deep in her locker for the sake of privacy, she brought the bear to her nose and inhaled deeply. She hummed in pleasure as she exhaled; yep, that was Quinn,. Sweet, earthy, like an alpine forest after the big spring thaw. It was the most exquisite torture and she was going to give Quinn a piece of her mind for inflicting it on her the next time they were able to speak. For now though she was just going to squash Grumpy's face as hard against her nose as she could and . . .

"RuPaul?"

Wow, her skull clanging off of the side of her locker in shock echoed enough to make her ears ring. Shaking her head to try and clear it, she pushed the bear as far back into the darkness as she could, behind the plastic bag of emergency clothes that she hadn't had to use last week and then wiped her sleeves hastily over her eyes and cheeks. Only then did she slowly pull her head out and turn to look at Quinn.

She was flanked by Santana and Brittany, which certainly explained the nickname and probably the reason she'd stopped at all. Rachel braced herself for what might come next.

"Yes, Quinn?"

"The bell already rang. You're going to be late for class."

Wait, that was it?

"Oh, I didn't hear it. I was miles away there for a minute."

"Really? Do you have, like, a secret Narnia back there?" Brittany moved closer to look in her locker and then huffed when Rachel slammed the door closed in a panic. "I wasn't going to try and go through it or anything."

"So did Finn the Clueless challenge you to pistols at dawn yet, Stubbles?"

"Why would he do that, Santana?"

"Uh, because you admitted to wanting to fuck his girlfriend?"

Rachel's eyes bugged, jaw dropping in . . . well, shock was probably the closest thing to what had just shot through her at those words. "I did no such thing!"

"Sure, so you're trying to tell me your big fantasy _always_ ended right after the oh-so romantic face-sucking?" Santana rolled her eyes but then added, "Actually, you are that lame."

"My fantasies are not lame, thank you very much! Not that I . . . I . . ."

"Can we please stop grossing me out now. You're going to bring back my morning sickness."

Santana didn't seem to know which one of them she wanted to smirk at the hardest. Oh yeah, it was going to take more than an article on Jacob's blog to convince her that their feelings weren't mutual. She winced a little because the answer was going to be freezing. Quinn was going to have to slushie her, maybe more than once to sell their story.

"I have this fantasy where Santana dresses like a . . ."

"Come on, we're gonna get detention for being late!"

Or Brittany could just keep doing that, she mused as she watched Santana hustle her best friend down the corridor. She looked curiously at Quinn who just grinned, winked and turned on her heel to follow the other two.

* * *

 _Finn_ had been slushied! And while _she_ had been standing right there. Some of the grape-flavoured ice had _actually_ hit her arm.

Okay, so she'd been slushied a few times now, but the first two had been by accident and the last time had been Rachel which kind of made it okay – she had sort of asked for it after all – but this . . . _this_ was not okay!

Karofsky had taunted him, about Glee club _and_ about Rachel, pointing out with great pleasure how he'd been played by the 'fugly midget' – her fury had actually outweighed Finn's at that point! – before declaring a new world order and strutting off like he was actually worth something to anyone.

Finn refused to get cleaned up in the bathroom because it was time for Glee and so she had grabbed one of the Cheerios towels and was wiping his face off in the Choir room, trying to ignore the way Rachel was eyeing Finn dolefully. It would have been easier if she'd thought it came from jealously, but she was pretty sure Rachel was just devastated that a) Finn had been slushied, and b) he wouldn't look at her when she'd offered condolences.

He perked up though when Mr. Schue started rapping to _Bust a Move_ because Mr. Schue rapping was always funny, and she happily went to dance with Santana and Brittany.

Rachel still didn't seem quite herself though. She was smiling and singing along but she was still in her seat, not getting up to dance with everyone else.

So was Puck for that matter, and sitting right next to her?

Quinn's eyes narrowed, but no, she was being stupid, because _those_ two? Never! Puck had more . . . or Rachel had more . . . She really couldn't finish either of those sentences without making herself feel bad so she didn't even try.

* * *

She felt like such an idiot right now. Only losers and freaks made appointments with Guidance Counsellors and even they didn't do it willingly. And why couldn't Miss Pilsbury have a tiny cubicle in the basement or something instead of an office right off the main hall with gigantic glass windows that just anyone could look through?

This had not been her idea, but she'd been freaking out and Finn had suggested it and she was out of ideas and prepared to do whatever it took now to ensure they stayed on top. Everything she had worked so hard to achieve was at stake here and trying to keep her status felt like spinning plates in the dark – she knew they were all wobbling, but she couldn't see which one she needed to deal with first to keep her balance.

Miss Pilsbury looked like a confused rabbit. "But aren't you, like, two of the most popular kids in school?"

"We were," she shot back, "until we joined Glee Club, and that's why Finn got a slushie facial, I'm sure of it."

Finn chuckled uncomfortably beside her. "And because you lied and told everyone you tried to kiss Rachel."

Her jaw tightened, "Fine, that too."

"And, maybe, because everyone knows I got you pregnant."

"Right, right!" Miss Pilsbury clapped her hands before clasping them together and leaning on her elbows. "Perhaps that's what we should really be talking about."

"The gay thing or the baby thing?" Finn asked.

Miss Pilsbury made an either/or face and Quinn jumped in before she could speak.

"I'm not gay, so there's nothing there to talk about, and we don't need to talk about the baby. What we _need_ is some advice on how to remain McKinley's IT couple until the day I graduate. Now can you help us or not?"

When they left the goldfish bowl of an office ten minutes later, Finn was gushing enthusiastically about how sunglasses were going to right all the wrongs in their world, and Quinn was swiftly stuffing unwanted pamplets into her bag before anyone noticed them. ' _You're not an infertile fatty, you're just pregnant'_ and _'Why do I like other boobs more than my own'_ were not likely to right _any_ wrongs.

* * *

"So, I was wondering if you, like, wanted to get together to help me work on the mash-up assignment?"

Rachel stared at him, and then down at the slushie that was still in the cup and not on her face and . . . was he serious?

"We could, maybe go to Breadstix, work on a few ideas and then back to your place to try them out."

This had to be a dream. One of those where you thought you'd already woken up and started your day only to suddenly jolt awake when the late bell ringing turned out to really be your alarm clock.

 _Please_ let that be the case.

"You would like to get take out from Breadstix and then go back to mine?" she asked slowly, wondering why her subconscious had cast Noah Puckerman in this role when it was clearly built for Quinn.

"No way! They only pack you, like, two breadsticks each if you get take out. If you want your money's worth you've gotta get a table and eat there."

The first bell rang; she didn't wake up.

Oh, this was really happening.

Rachel smiled, it didn't even matter that he was thinking more of his wallet and stomach than her, because he was also worrying more about his wallet and stomach than being seen with her. She watched as further down from her locker Quinn picked lint out of Finn's hair while affectionately scolding him for looking a scruff.

Why were they both wearing sunglasses indoors? Maybe this was a dream after all.

She looked back to Puck. "I accept."

"Cool." He returned her smile. "The Puckasarus needs to eat early though so I'll pick you up at six."

"That's perfectly fine."

* * *

Quinn turned from Finn to close her locker door just in time to see Puck smile at Rachel and then head off down the hall.

' _What the hell?_ '


	16. Chapter 16

Quick follow up update because you have been so patient :)

 **Chapter Sixteen: Swallowing Our Pain.**

"So, you wanna make out?"

"Uh." Rachel was surprised but . . . _no_ , surprised covered it.

Noah had paid for her meal but it hadn't really felt like a date. They'd spent the whole time while in a booth at Breadstix talking about different songs that would mash well with Mr. Schuester's rapping and she had been pleasantly surprised to find that his musical tastes weren't as abhorrent as she'd expected. However she suspected he felt differently, judging by the spikes-under-the-fingernails wincing that he was trying to disguise as mediocre enthusiasm. It left her wondering why he had taken the time to invite himself into her home at all and then expend the energy to talk his way upstairs in her currently parent-less house. She had been more expecting him to make his excuses and leave than ask _that_.

She was strangely charmed by his bluntness and it was nice that at least one person in school wasn't condemning her for being an alleged lesbian. Unless, wait. .. ?

"Are you only asking because you want to tell the whole school you converted a lesbian?"

He smiled, "That depends. Are you a lesbian?"

She took a moment to think about her answer, or more to the point, how her answer could effect Quinn. "I'm bisexual, I think." _Now_ she thought about how her answer effected her and also about the fact that this was _Puck,_ McKinley's resident Lothario. "But I don't make out with just anyone. . . and I certainly don't want to do so with anyone who isn't proud to have me on their arm," she tacked onto the end with an indignant sniff and an angry flick of her hair as Quinn's idea of _dating_ her flashed to the front of her mind.

He shrugged, "You're a hot Jew, what's not to be proud of?"

She melted, a little, because it was nice to hear someone - anyone - call her hot.

He picked up on her sudden weak-at-the-knees-ness and waggled his eyebrows. "So what are we waiting for, babe?"

They moved to her bed and he lay down, pulling her over him. His kisses were nice, he clearly knew what he was doing, but . . .

No, she shook thoughts of Quinn away and concentrated on the boy beneath her. It was a little weird. Finn was the only other boy she'd kissed and he was so tall that even laying down it had felt like he was towering over her. Noah wasn't so tall, but he was extremely muscular, in fact she quite liked the way his chest felt against hers, but . . .

No, no buts! She liked it, please just leave it at that. She needed this. Needed to feel wanted, by someone other than the person that _she_ couldn't want any more. Dwelling on what she couldn't have wasn't healthy. She had to just accept the fact that nobody was ever going to make her feel the way she did when Quinn kissed her, but Noah's kisses were okay, they made her lips feel nice even if they didn't make her whole body feel sparks. He actually kissed a lot like Quinn, like they'd learned the art from the same master, and if she ignored the hard body beneath her and kept her eyes closed she could almost imagine . . .

A few seconds of imagining later she abruptly pushed up on her hands, away from Noah's lips, shocked at herself.

"You okay, babe?"

No she wasn't, because that wasn't okay. If she needed to think about Quinn to feel . . . No, it just wasn't right.

In the end she made up a bunch of excuses about his lack of leading man potential and he left shortly afterwards, looking upset. She felt bad about hurting his feelings but it was better than leading him on, right?

Grumpy Bear agreed with her, later that night when she cuddled him tight into the crook of her neck and waited for sleep to come.

Grumpy Bear - who still smelled like Quinn - was all she needed for now.

* * *

This was the first time she'd heard Puck sing a solo and it was . . . it was enough to make Quinn sit forward on her red seat at the top of the risers and listen with rapt admiration.

She probably shouldn't be and she tried to sit back and school her expression into something other than ' _Take me now_! _'_ Obviously Puck was singing this to get her attention and she didn't need Finn getting jealous, even if for some reason he had opted to sit several chairs away from her today.

She watched as Puck strolled across the floor, his dulcet tones – and they really were dulcet, for crying out loud – making every girl present swoon just a little bit, and although it was foolish she was kind of looking forward to that moment when he turned and made eye-contact with her.

Except he didn't. Not once. And there was Rachel practically sliding off of her seat as he stopped in front of her, his smile and his stupid voice crooning stupidly just for her.

Just what the hell was going on here?

* * *

The day only got worse after second period.

There had been at least eight guys and at least _half_ of the slushies had ended up on her. _Deliberately._ At least the sunglasses had kept the corn syrup out of her eyes; so they hadn't been a complete waste of time.

She left Finn in the middle of a giant puddle of ice spluttering about how he couldn't quit the football team _now,_ to head to the girls locker room. It wasn't that she didn't get where he was coming from but . . . she was still head cheerleader and this had _still_ happened to her, _and_ she was wearing sunglasses. What more could she possibly do to escape this?

She sort of noticed Rachel in her periphery as she passed her, but she was drenched through and freezing and so even if she could have acknowledged her she wouldn't have done.

Still, it took away the shock factor when two minutes later Rachel followed her into the locker room. Quinn may have considered it a good thing if there weren't half a dozen senior Cheerios in there with her, changing after their Gym period.

They _were_ seniors and normally they wouldn't give a crap about any sophomore drama, but she was HEAD Cheerleader and they were all _seniors_ and so they resented her on principle. By extension . . . Rachel was toast.

"RuPaul, you're in the wrong changing room!"

"Stop perving on us, LesBerry!"

"Quinn, get your pet dyke out of here!"

The insults grew increasingly worse but Rachel - to her credit if not Quinn's sanity - ignored them all.

"Quinn, I saw what happened. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine; and you need to get out of here," she mumbled without looking up.

"I'm sorry?"

"I said, I'm fine!" she couldn't help it, she snapped. "I don't need you checking on me, Manhands. It was just a slushy. Leave me alone!"

"We both know it was more than just one . . ." Quinn levelled a bitch-force glare at her. "But I can see you have the situation under control, so I'll bid you farewell." Rachel's expression gave nothing away as she turned and left the locker room.

Unsurprisingly one of the girls was sneering before the door had even shut properly behind Rachel. "About time you put that queer in her place,"

"Yeah?" Quinn started stripping out of her uniform, there was no point being modest now everyone knew she was pregnant. In a sugar-coated voice, she added, "Eat shit and die, Glenda."

That had the red-headed senior standing up from her bench. "What did you just say to me?"

"I'm pretty sure you and everyone else in here heard me," she said calmly.

"I knew you were as dykey as her," another girl piped up, causing a round of bitchy laughter the Cheerios might as well have trademarked.

Quinn was already half way to the showers but she turned around to reply. "I'm not gay, Suze, as much as you might wish I was." She let that hang there for as long as it took Susan to turn red at the implication. "But I'm also not a narrow-minded, homophobic asshole. Do I like Berry having a crush on me? No. But I'm not threatened by it either. How many of you have had a crush on someone who didn't feel the same way?"

She didn't just ask the Cheerios, but every Senior in the class she'd crashed. Pretty much all of their expressions gave away that they had.

"And how would you have felt to have that crush publicly condemned and ridiculed?" She spotted more than a few sheepish looks before their eyes turned away. "Exactly. So just drop it. Berry's my problem, not yours, and I've got it handled."

She turned and walked into the showers and no one made a peep in her direction as she did, but she could imagine the looks that were passing back and forth behind her. And of course she cared about them, because that's who she _was_ , but she also thought . . . screw it! She hadn't said anything she didn't want to say and they all knew she was right, even if they said differently behind her back.

* * *

Quinn felt lighter than she had done in weeks after putting the the girls in the locker room back in their place, like she was finally getting some control back. And okay so everything was still going to hell – Rachel, Finn, her reputation, her abs – but just maybe, she could dictate her own terms and that was _something_ to be optimistic about.

That optimism lasted until she saw Puck and Rachel walking arm in arm down the hall at lunch time.

What, were they actually _together_ now?

She couldn't even smirk over Puck getting slushied for long, as joyful as it was, because Rachel quickly rushed him into the girls bathroom to help him clean up.

This was . . . they just _couldn't_ be together! Puck and Rachel? Why couldn't they just rip her heart from her chest, douse it in gasoline and strike a match instead – it would have been less painful.

"Finn, I can't find my phone. Give me yours so that I can call it, please."

He handed it over without question; too caught up in his conversation with Matt about Coach Tanaka's football ultimatum to care about what she was doing.

 _It's Quinn. Meet me in our spot when you're done fooling around with Puck. It's important._

She handed the phone back. "Actually, I just remembered where I left it." She pulled Finn down by his arm to kiss his cheek, accidentally clashing their sunglasses together. "I'm going to go and get it, I'll see you later."

* * *

Rachel heard her cellphone beep while she was in the bathroom with Noah, but she was focused on washing his hair at the time. She was starting to think he might be good boyfriend material after all. His voice _was_ beautiful despite his as yet limited capabilities, he was rakishly handsome when he smiled a certain way and, maybe just as importantly, he really seemed to want to be with her.

She was ready to suggest they made their relationship official when he reluctantly admitted he was choosing Football over Glee. Sadly they were doomed from that moment on, but honestly she was more upset over him leaving Glee than leaving her.

She checked her messages as she left the bathroom and despite many misgivings made her way to the abandoned workshop. What could possibly be so important that Quinn would risk them meeting in the middle of the school day, on school grounds, in what could only be seen as an intended tête-à-tête if they were unlucky enough to be spotted by a fellow student?

Had Quinn changed her mind about them being friends? Did she want that now? Rachel hoped so because this past week of forced estrangement had been so hard. The only time they'd really talked at all had been in their American Literature classes and even those conversations had been solely about the novel for once. Rachel had wanted to enquire on her health and well-being, or ask what she had been doing with her evenings, or even just talk about the weather but she respected Quinn's apparent need to keep things strictly professional from now on.

She knew she'd disrespected it that morning when she'd followed her into the locker room, which was why she had left without a fuss when Quinn's acid tongue had given her a quick lashing, but seeing Quinn so brutally slushied Rachel just hadn't been able to stop herself from making sure she was okay. It had been a solid reminder of the fact that they _weren't_ friends though, or anything else any more.

Which again brought her back to why her presence had been requested in 'their spot' just as she rounded the back of the workshop.

"Why did you need to see me? What's happened?" she asked, hurrying to join her as soon as she saw Quinn leaning back against the brick, arms crossed and sunglasses on despite the grey sky above them. "Is there something wrong with your eyes?"

"Are you dating Puck now?"

"I, uh . . ." Quinn's tone was so harsh she didn't want to admit that they had actually just broken up. "Perhaps. Why?"

"Why? Why do you think? It's Puckerman, Rachel!"

"Yes, I know. I think I've misjudged him in the past. He's proven himself quite sensitive in the last few days."

"Which is more than I can say for you?"

That hurt. "I don't know what you mean by that?"

"Oh please! Don't act like an idiot. Is that why you broke up with me? Have you just been waiting to date him this whole time?"

This conversation was placing her severely off-kilter, especially when she couldn't see Quinn's eyes and only had the emotion in her voice to go on. "Quinn, you _know_ that's not why. We ended because the challenges of dating someone on the outskirts of social acceptability proved to be too great for you to overcome."

"Oh really. If that were true you wouldn't have moved on at the speed of light, Rachel."

She noticed with disappointed that Quinn hadn't denied the charge, dousing her hope that the accusation would light a rebellious fire - or at the least a slightly indignant fire - in Quinn. It was for the best this way but it didn't make finding out that over the weekend Quinn had come around to the same way of thinking any easier to bear.

That was just her though. Surely for Quinn it was different.

"But won't this make it easier for _you_?"

"What about seeing you parade around on his arm and rushing to help him _clean up_ is supposed to be easy for me?"

"Why are you making 'clean up' sound dirty? And have you forgotten that I rushed to help you too, only an hour before, and you sent me away in your usual cruel fashion. At least Noah appreciated my help."

"Oh, it's _Noah_ now, is it?"

She sighed, "Quinn, if you have a problem with my relationship with _Puck_ then . . ."

Quinn pushed off of the brick and took a step towards her with an extremely to the point, "Yes, I do have a problem with it."

" . . . then . . ." What was she supposed to say to that? ". . . then . . . tough! It's not any of your concern. I apologise that the timing is too soon for you, but Noah courted me, not the other way around, and I find myself quite taken with him for doing so."

"So this _is_ about you punishing me?"

"No!" She made an effort to calm down before this turned into the argument Quinn was goading for. "Quinn, I'm not trying to be insensitive, but look at it from my point of view. I have to see you be happy with Finn every day, knowing he has what I . . ."

"Happy? Happy!" Quinn took another step forward. "Do I _sound_ happy? Do I _look_ happy right now?"

All Rachel could see _right now_ were two little reflections of her own worried face in the dark lenses where Quinn's eyes should be. Still it was pretty obvious what answer was expected of her.

"No, you don't, but you do still have a boyfriend that you're content to stay with. Why can't I have the same thing?"

Quinn looked away for a moment, lips moving slightly although no sound came out. Rachel had the absurd thought that she was praying, but then it wasn't all that absurd when it came to Quinn. So next she wondered what she was praying _for_.

Patience, perhaps, or a little serenity. Either way, when she looked back, her voice was controlled and at a lower pitch than before.

"Of course you can have that, I don't want you to not be happy, but it really does feel a little soon. Like you're jumping into this without thinking."

"I'm not planning to run off and elope with Noah; I'm fully aware that this is probably purely a rebound relationship for me, but I see no problem with living a little if that's what I need right now."

"Yeah, the thing is? Puck is not a good choice for a rebound. You know his reputation."

"Which I, personally, think makes him the perfect choice. The chance of me being able to break Noah's heart is unlikely."

"And you don't get why that's the problem? You're worrying about breaking his heart and all he's thinking about is breaking you in!"

"Quinn!" Rachel went red. "There's no need to be so crass, but even if you're right, what's wrong with me enjoying the fact that _someone_ finds me desirable enough to want to have sex with me?"

Quinn looked oddly hurt by that.

"What about . . .?" she began, her voice small and uncertain but her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip before she could finish her sentence and in the blink of an eye her attitude changed, she took a step back, arms folding again. "So this is about me not having sex with you? Because, honestly Rachel, if I'd known that that was all you were interested in I wouldn't have wasted so much time on you in the first place."

Rachel was still convinced Quinn had multiple personalities living in her head, and just as convinced that at least one of them was mentally unhinged.

"Give me strength! No, Quinn, that's not all I'm interested in! Yes, I would like to have sex one day, and possibly even with you, but I'm in no rush to reach that milestone. It will happen when my partner and I are both ready, whether that is next week or five years from now, and that applies to you _and_ Noah and anyone else."

"Trust me, he's ready."

Rachel simply shrugged. She had no plans to ever sleep with Noah Puckerman but it really wasn't any of Quinn's business; not when Quinn _had_ already slept with Finn at least once.

"Rachel, you _can't_ be with him! He's only with you because . . . Look, okay, Puck has a sensitive side, I know that, but he also has an asshole side and an uncanny ability to know when a girl is feeling vulnerable to his charms. Think about it from his point of view: You have unrequited feelings for me. The whole school is laughing at you because you covered up getting turned down by blackmailing me and it blew up in your face. Finn isn't speaking to you. No one else is much either. And he's as aware that you are on the rebound as you are!"

Considering all of that was _because_ of Quinn, Rachel really didn't appreciate the cavalier tone, but she kept her hurt feelings behind a strained smile. "Your point?"

"That you're _one_ wine cooler away from throwing you virginity at him!"

"I am not!"

"Yes you are!" Rachel flinched back and Quinn looked instantly sorry for yelling and stepped forward, taking her hands. "Listen, I get why you want a boyfriend and that's fine, I won't try and stop you, but Puck is not the right guy for you. So . . . you'll break up with him this afternoon, before this mess gets any worse, and we'll find you a different boyfriend, okay?"

Could she just say: What . . . The . . . _Heck_?

"Quinn, I think the problem is more easily solved by me just not being silly enough to drink wine coolers in Noah's presence. And considering how terrible I felt the morning after his party, I wasn't planning on doing so any time soon anyway."

"Famous last words," Quinn muttered, before continuing as if she hadn't even heard her. "What about Mike? It would actually kill two birds with one stone. He's less likely to tell people the truth about me if he has you."

"You want to use me as currency to buy Mike's silence?"

"Yes, if you want to be cynical about it. Come on, I know you like him and I won't do anything to stand in the way of that from now on."

Cynical? She was the one being accused of cynicism? "Well, it sounds as though you have my romantic life all sorted out for me, except that you've overlooked the fact that Mike is now dating _Brittany_!"

Quinn's face fell, what she could see of it below the dark glasses anyway. "He is? When did that happen?"

"I have no idea, but when I asked him on Monday if he would like to get together to work on his routine again, he blushed profusely and informed me that Brittany was now helping him."

"Well, that doesn't sound serious . . ." Quinn was quiet for a few seconds, tilting her head up a little and biting her lip. "I bet it would be totally easy for us to break them up."

"Quinn! That's your friend!"

"Pick someone else then!"

"I did! I picked Noah!"

They were shouting at each other now and Rachel just hoped no one was walking past the other side of the work shop for any reason.

"You're not dating _Puck_!"

"No one else wants me!"

Quinn was about to give her a hug, she could see it, but Rachel hadn't said it for sympathy, she was just stating the truth, and being in Quinn's arms . . . that couldn't happen. So she took a step back, holding her hands up to keep her away.

"That's not a good enough reason to lead him on. You can't do that to him."

That was a quick change of tune.

"I thought you were worried about me, not him."

"I am, but he does have feelings too, and if you're only with him to get over me, that's not fair."

It started to drizzle and Rachel pulled the hood of her jacket over her head. It probably took something away from her glare as she said, "Why do you care? You don't even like him."

Quinn shifted back on her feet uncomfortably. "That's neither here nor there."

Wheels started spinning in Rachel's mind, memories of half-forgotten observations and conversations coming to her. "You're jealous of him being into me."

"Clearly. Just because we're not together doesn't mean I like the idea of you with anyone else."

"No." Rachel held a hand up to her. "You're fine with me being with Mike all of a sudden, but Noah's a different story."

"That's because Puck is a _man whore_ , Rachel. Of course that makes me more jealous."

"But which one of us are you more jealous of?"

Quinn's mouth opened to retort, and then closed again very firmly.

"It's an acceptable question seeing as we both know he has, or _had_ anyway, a crush on you. Perhaps you enjoyed his attention more than you've let on. I wouldn't blame you, I'm enjoying it right now."

"You know what?" Quinn growled. "Date Puck. _Do_ Puck. Do whatever you want. I hope you get knocked up too, maybe then you'll stop acting like you're so much better than me."

"What does your pregnancy have to do with . . .?" Quinn was already walking away, giving her only seconds to get in a decent comeback. "Yeah, well, you look _really_ stupid wearing sunglasses when its raining, Quinn!"

It wasn't the best comeback, but it was enough to make Quinn look over her shoulder, rip off her sunglasses and give her the _Glare of Death_! before disappearing around the corner. So mission accomplished.

But when had her mission become upsetting Quinn?

More to the point, she'd just had an entirely nasty argument with her about a boy she wasn't even dating any more. Puck had chosen football over her. She'd upset Quinn for no reason and in turn thoroughly upset herself.

She really wished she'd let Quinn hug her now after all.

* * *

Kurt proudly re-enacted his departure from the football team for them in the first few tense minutes they were waiting.

Quinn wasn't feeling tense for the same reason everyone else was, she was already sure none of them were going to show up. What boy in his right mind would choose being a Glee loser over being a football stud?

No, she was tense because she was in the same room as Rachel when she really didn't want to be. Their confrontation earlier had left her raw in so many ways. She was thankful for the dark glasses because at least nobody, and especially Rachel, could see that she had been crying recently. She'd never expected her to be so callous; defiant, argumentative and annoying, yes, but not callous. It was like she didn't even care that Quinn was hurting over this, like just because Rachel was okay about them splitting up, she was magically supposed to be too. She wouldn't even _hug_ her now, for crying out loud! Was the idea of getting that close to her suddenly repulsive or something? Or did Rachel just not need her affection any more because she was getting more than enough closeness from Puck?

 _God_ , it made her stomach burn and her skin itch, the thought of him kissing her and touching her in ways only she should be allowed to. Ways she wanted to right now because Rachel's nervous energy mixed with absolute optimism that the guys would turn up, however stupid, was actually really adorable.

As the clock ticked towards and then passed three-thirty everyone else gave up hope. Everyone except Rachel who continued to stare at the door, almost bouncing on her toes and Quinn wanted nothing more than to pull her into her arms, to calm her down while she whispered in her ear that it didn't matter, they'd find more members (somehow) before Sectionals and Glee would be fine.

Except she couldn't and so she had to find a way to distract herself. It came to her pretty easily as she was watching Rachel fret. Finn had been right, the dark glasses hid a multitude of sins. The current sin being watching Rachel's breasts as she bounced up and down. Hey, just because she couldn't touch any more didn't mean she still couldn't look – providing she was wearing sunglasses anyway.

She was jerked from her slightly pervy (okay very pervy for her) thoughts by Matt and Mike walking unexpectedly through the door.

Her first thought was _'Losers!'_ but she couldn't deny the excited little jump in her stomach when she saw them. She was impressed actually, although less so when Mike hugged Brittany. She definitely saw him shoot a little smile Rachel's way though, which gave her some hope, even if she didn't like the way Rachel returned it with a beaming smile of her own.

Her head was so messed up!

As everyone else grouped excitedly around the two dancers, Quinn continued to watch Rachel continue to watch the door. She should tell her to get over it, to just be happy they only had to find two new members instead of four, but she couldn't, at least not without making it a cutting remark and she didn't want to do that when Rachel was already so on edge.

She had to do something about that hopeful puppy look though, because it was _killing_ her to know Rachel was going to be disappointed again. She took a couple of measured steps around the group, trying to make it not obvious that she was heading for Rachel. She'd made it to whispering distance when Rachel's face visibly perked up and Quinn smiled too, because it was awesome to know that Rachel still appreciated these stolen moments as much as she did.

"It's going to be . . ." she murmured, but stopped when Rachel abruptly walked away.

Her eyes followed and then narrowed when she saw Puck strolling in, as casual as you like. Had he really just quit football for Glee? Did he really like Rachel that much? Bile gorged in her throat as she watched them hug and how she wished she could blame it on morning sickness.

She averted her eyes before anyone could notice her staring, struggling to keep her emotions in check, because punching Puck and then bursting into tears would look weird to anyone but her and Rachel, and probably Puck.

She almost lost it anyway when Tina suddenly turned to her and asked, "But where's Finn?" and Rachel shot her the most irritatingly sympathetic look imaginable.

"Where do you think he is?" she managed to grind out. "Playing football like he _should_ be. He's the Captain of the team, he can't just shirk his responsibilities like these losers," she added, giving Puck the full strength of her glare.

He didn't even notice it, too busy whispering something no doubt disgusting into Rachel's ear. Something that made her snort, slap his chest in reproach and then lean up to peck him on the lips.

Hello, she was standing _right_ here!

Stomping to the red chairs she sat down and crossed her arms and glared at Puck, the dark glasses she was wearing were probably the only thing preventing his stupid head from bursting into flames.

They continued the session without Finn, but Quinn never really got into it. Once it was over she waited until Rachel had left, _with Puck_ , before trapping Mike by his chair.

He looked annoyed to begin with, and then a little nervous as he realized she was waiting for everyone else to leave before she shared what was on her mind.

"Can I help you with something?" he asked eventually.

With a final goodbye to the two of them, the door closed behind Mr. Schue.

"I just wanted to ask you . . . what are you doing with Brittany?"

His face started with surprise, passed through pissed off and then settled down on slightly amused. "Is this going to become a thing between us? I start dating a girl and suddenly you like her too?"

"Shut up, I don't _like_ Brittany!" Quinn refused to blush but she couldn't help the nervous glance over her shoulder to make sure the door was still closed. "But she is my friend, which means I know she doesn't do dating, at least not seriously, and you have serious boyfriend material written all over you."

"That sounded like a compliment but . . ." he began slowly, but didn't object when she cut him off.

"It was, sort of, but Brittany won't appreciate it. Do you know who will appreciate it? Rachel. She wants to be a girlfriend as much as you want to be a boyfriend, so why did you turn down her offer to spend time with you?"

"Isn't she with Puckerman now?"

"She's only with Puck because _you_ said no!"

"Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Would we be having this conversation if it was? No. She likes you, Mike. More than she does Puck, probably a lot more."

"Maybe." He picked his book bag from the floor, letting it dangle beside his leg. "But not enough to lie to the whole school and make herself look bad for me."

She was about to ask why Rachel would need to lie for him when his point sank in.

"What makes you think _she's_ the one lying?" she asked defensively.

"Maybe because I still have _frostbite_ from our little race down the slopes together," his sudden grin was unexpected and she felt her own lips quirk up in response. "I like Rachel. I _love_ how she's so passionate about her singing and I really admire how she just cares so much about the people that are important to her, even those that really don't deserve it." She looked away uncomfortably. "But I don't see us working out."

"You could though."

He shrugged, "We went on one date, Quinn, and she spent most of it with you."

Again her lips tried to betray her and she bit down on the bottom one to keep it in line.

"Honestly, I just can't handle the drama. Love triangles aren't really my thing."

"It wouldn't _be_ a love. . ." she began in a rush with that urge to look over her shoulder coming back.

"Hey, its not a big deal, and if you're doing this to placate me in some way, there's no need. I'm not going to tell anyone about you guys. It's none of my business."

"There's nothing to tell! Whatever you think, Rachel and I aren't together, okay? So if you like her, ask her out." When he looked at her dubiously, she added, "Look, I promise to completely back off and stay out of the way."

Now he looked confused. "Why would you _want_ to do that?"

When she didn't answer he pulled his bag over his shoulder, ready to leave. He actually took a step away before turning back to her with a small smile. "Tina told me what Mercedes said in your Gym class the other day. She was lying. Rachel ruled Team-Berry with an iron fist. You have no idea how many times she saved your ass from the things we wanted to do."

She wanted to ask: How many? And what things? But instead she asked, "What's your point?"

He shrugged lightly, "That maybe its _you_ who should start recognising her serious girlfriend potential."

* * *

"Finn Hudson, how could you!"

His face was utter surprise when he saw her push her way through several of the huge guys huddled around to reach him.

"Um, Rachel, I'm kind of in the middle of practice here."

"I don't care!" And she didn't, at least not about the half a dozen boys chuckling around her as she planted her feet and stuck her hands on her hips. "We need to talk."

"I've got nothing to say to you. I chose football, get over it."

"Do you think it's that easy? You didn't just desert Glee this afternoon, which I'm mad enough about, thank you very much, but you deserted your _girlfriend_ too!"

"Aww, look at him getting schooled on relationships by his girlfriend's piece on the side," Azimo cackled. "Better watch out, Finn, sounds like she's a much better boyfriend than you."

"Shut up!" he snarled, red in the face. "And time-out, everyone take five."

"Hell no, this practice just got interesting," another six-foot, heavy-set boy chimed in and Rachel rolled her eyes.

Finn glared at them all -but mostly Rachel - before storming away.

Rachel dogged his heels, having to almost run to keep up. "I would say I'm sorry I embarrassed you in front of your friends, but as that's exactly what you did to Quinn earlier I'm finding it hard to feel any sympathy."

"Go away, Rachel!"

"I will not!"

He whirled around suddenly and - not expecting it - she bounced off of his chest. He grabbed her elbow to keep her on her feet but as soon as she found her balance he let go and stepped back.

"Quinn _gets_ it, okay? She never wanted me in Glee club in the first place. So if you think you're defending her honor or something, you're wrong."

"Things have changed. How do you think she felt when everyone else's boyfriend chose Glee club and you didn't?"

"I don't know, happy that she has better taste in boyfriends than the rest of you?"

That might have been true on the surface, but Rachel hadn't been fooled.

"We need you in the club, Finn. You're our male star! Quinn knows that now! Don't you see the way she smiles when you sing? When was the last time she asked you to quit for the sake of your popularity?"

"I don't know. A while ago," he admitted. "To be honest, I thought she'd demand it after you finally told the truth last week. As revenge on you or something, but I guess she's a bigger person than that."

She wanted to roll her eyes, but didn't because it wouldn't be productive. "Yes, and because she enjoys being in Glee club, and because she knows how much _you_ enjoy it. If she didn't, don't you think she would have demanded you quit after she took that incredibly over-the-top slushy shower with you this morning. She got slushied _because_ you're in Glee and did she ever once say you had to leave?"

"No, Rachel, she got slushied because of _you_ , we both did! No one was making any ultimatums until you started trying to mack on my girlfriend!"

She sighed deeply, knowing it was at least half-true. "I'm sorry about that."

"Are you? Really? Because I've heard that before and then you started contorting her!"

If only!

"Extorting."

"Whatever! Look, I can't believe anything you say so just stop trying to talk to me."

He was about to head back his team-mates but . . . okay, this was a bad idea but all she had left were bad ideas.

"Finn, wait." She caught his wrist and held it tenderly, it was enough to make him stop and look back. "You're right. I have lied to you. But please, can't you give me the chance to tell the truth now."

He pulled away from her touch but stayed. "This should be interesting."

She counted to ten in her head to steel herself against his cool gaze before just blurting it out.

"I do like Quinn. I have feelings for her. Big, unstoppable feelings that won't go away. But Finn I didn't ask to feel this way and nobody wishes that I didn't more than me. "

"Then why did you try and kiss her?"

"I foolishly allowed my naive heart to rule my head, thinking there might be a small chance that she felt the same way. You probably think I'm stupid too for not realizing that she was simply leading me on and playing on my affections to secure you a scholarship. But I didn't until Santana told me. It made me angry and I didn't want to believe it and so I tried to kiss her, to prove to myself that Santana was wrong. Only, Santana wasn't wrong."

Finn frowned, "But how did she lead you on?"

She didn't have to lie about this part. "She took me on a date, Finn! She took me bowling, paid for everything, held my hand as we walked back to her car. I . . . I don't hold it against her, because what I did was worse, I know that, but yes, she led me on."

"I didn't know she did all that."

Of course he didn't, because Quinn's ulterior motives hadn't been _his_ ulterior motives so she wouldn't have _told_ him.

"I never meant to hurt you, Finn, and I _am_ really sorry that I have, but I can't help the way I feel about her."

"I know that," he said quietly.

"You do?"

"Yeah, you can't chose who you like, and you can't always stop it just because you know it might upset someone else who's really important to you."

"Exactly," Rachel risked a tentative smile.

"I thought you liked me too though."

Uh-oh, she probably should have seen that coming.

"Were you just faking that to get close to Quinn?"

Again, she was grateful that she didn't have to lie. "No, not at all. I _do_ like you, Finn."

"Yeah but, like _that_?"

She hesitated over her answer, but only because she knew it was about to make things complicated, not because she was trying to think up a lie.

"Yes. Like _that_."

"But how can you if you like girls? I mean, doesn't that make you gay?"

"I'm bisexual." He frowned so she asked softly, "Do you know what that means?"

"Of course I know what that means! I just never knew it was a real thing. Isn't it just an excuse gay dude hide behind so they don't seem _too_ gay or something?"

Rachel nearly rolled her eyes. "No, it's not. I'm attracted to boys and I'm attracted to girls. Does it sound like I'm hiding anything from you?"

"No."

"Thank you. I've been brought up to believe that sexuality can be fluid, Finn, and you fall in love with the person not the gender. And it turns out that - for me anyway - that is completely true."

"Okay, I believe you, but . . ." Fidgeting with his red and white safety hat Finn looked up at the empty bleachers before blurting, "But, uh, how fluid do you think Quinn is? I mean, really."

Oh shoot, she couldn't answer that without lying, could she!

She could work around it though. "I think Quinn is as fluid as the rest of us, but she appears to identify as straight."

Thank you, English language, for being so accommodating!

"So _you_ think she's straight?" he asked hopefully.

Rachel mentally crossed her fingers, even though she still wasn't lying. "She has certainly told me she is enough times."

"I'm sorry."

His sudden apology made her look behind to see who was on the receiving end of it. And she was the only one in a twenty-foot radius.

"For what?"

"You like me and I'm with Quinn and you like Quinn and she's with me. I just mean it must be hard."

She looked at the ground, well at his cleats actually, and inhaled hard, her next word came on the exhale. "Yes."

"If . . .?"

"If?"

". . . You had to choose?"

She shook her head. "I don't know." She resented him making her lie now when she'd been doing so well. "I can't. And I won't because its irrelevant."

"Yeah, sorry," he looked sheepish.

"There is one bright side though."

He laughed disbelievingly. "And that is?"

"Quinn and I were never friends, so I've lost nothing there. But you and I were, and I would really hate to lose your friendship over this, Finn. That would hurt more than anything. So can we still be friends?"

"I don't know." He dragged his palm over his face. "I don't know, Rachel. I'm still angry at you. Hell, I'm still angry at Quinn and she didn't even do anything! I think I just need some time to get over it."

"Okay," she nodded. "I understand. I'll be here when you're ready though. And you should really come back to Glee club, because you have a lot of talent and it would be criminal to let it go to waste."

He chuckled and gave her a lopsided smile. "I don't know about that, but thanks."

"Trust me, Finn. The club needs you to be a part of it. So do I. So does Quinn."

Finn rolled his eyes to the grey-blue sky above. "I can't believe you two are ganging up on me and she's not even here."

Rachel smiled, "Just imagine how much worse it would be if we actually were in cahoots."

He actually smiled then, even laughed softly. "Is that even a real word? Look, I gotta go. I have to get back to practice."

She nodded, "Knock them dead."

"It's just practice."

"Okay, then just knock Azimo Adams dead."

He gave her a 'You know it' nod and then ran back down the field. She watched him go, with no clue as to how she actually felt about their conversation.

She obviously hadn't made him want to quit football for Glee, but just maybe she'd managed to salvage their friendship, even if was going to take a little time.

How Quinn would feel about that she didn't know, and she shouldn't even care, but she obviously did or she wouldn't be thinking about it.

Sighing heavily, she felt in need of some light relief and so she called Noah.

* * *

"A little busy right now, babe, I'll get back to you in a bit." Puck closed his phone, smirking at an impatiently waiting Quinn.

"Who was that?"

"Jealous?"

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Don't flatter yourself."

"Who said I was talking about me? That was Berry. She wants to hang out."

Her stomach turned, knowing Rachel's definition for hanging out all too well because she'd provided her with it.

"No, I'm not jealous, but that is what I want to talk about. What do you think you're doing with her?"

"Why? Wanna compare notes?"

"I'm being serious! She's pathetic right now because I broke her poor little heart or something and I know you're just itching to take advantage of that."

"You make it sound so cold." he chuckled like he was hilarious. "I'm just offering her a little comfort in her time of need, one hot Jew to another, what's wrong with that?"

"What's wrong with that?" she barked back at him. Try _every_ thing! "She blackmailed me, Puck! Blackmailed me about our . . ." she dropped her voice to a rough whisper, even though she'd made sure to catch him a secluded corner of the Quad for this conversation. ". . . _our_ baby. She made my life hell for two weeks! Why would you want to be with her after that?"

He studied her silently. Like everyone else he was still trying to figure out who was telling the truth and when. He had more inside info that most, but it was indirect (well as indirect as letting him shove his tongue in her mouth could be) and hopefully distorted by the alcohol he'd also consumed the night of Homecoming.

Eventually he shifted his stance, pushing his fists into his pockets and said low but clear, "She didn't blackmail _me_ , Quinn, because as far as she and everyone else is concerned the baby has nothing to do with me. _You_ only admit it when you want to tear me a new one, so why should I care about what she did to you?"

His dismissal hurt but she let only anger show on her face. "Fine! What do I care if you want to scrape the bottom of the barrel for dates? But don't you _dare_ screw her, because I will not have my daughter biologically tied to some Spawn of Stubbles for life because you can't keep your ridiculously fertile sperm in your pants!"

"Qu . . ."

"I mean it, just _don't_!"

The conversation was leaving a sour ball in her stomach and a bitter taste in her mouth that she needed washing out. She didn't want to insult Rachel, it made her feel nauseas, not unlike a bout of raging morning sickness, but it was a means to an end, and the end was worth it, if it meant the end of Rachel and Puck.

"I wouldn't worry about me knocking Berry up. She's more of a prude than you are. She won't even let me touch her boobs!"

He looked so sorry for himself that a smug smile was gracing her lips before she could stop it. Pride may have been a sin but everyone was allowed one vice, right?

His jaw dropped, "No _friggin'_ way!"

"What can I say? I really wanted my secret kept and your _girlfriend_ isn't shy about getting what she _actually_ wants," she winked, because she couldn't help herself. "See you later, _Noah_."

So that had been stupid, but it had felt so good she didn't even care.


	17. Chapter 17

Thank you for all of the awesome reviews recently. They make writing this all the more worth it :) I have a few pm's to get back to still, but my time is rarely my own these days (the bean can now stand up and cruise along the furniture so now even the fricking floor is a baby hazard!) but I will reply soon as.I hope you like the new chapter; things are starting to advance . . . slowly.

* * *

 **Chapter Seventeen:**

 **Break-ups, Make-ups and What-The-F*cks.**

Half-way through the lunch period the following day everything changed for Quinn again when Coach Sylvester left her crying outside of the cafeteria.

She stood there, hugging her books to her chest and feeling as though every snide look and whisper that was being directed her way was skinning her alive. And yet, she was so numb that she couldn't do anything to make it stop. How could she anyway? Who would listen, who would care when they'd all seen her publicly stripped of her power?

She didn't see Rachel come running up. The first Quinn was aware of it, she was already hovering in front of her, eyes filled with concern.

"What happened? Are you okay?"

She couldn't even pretend to be. "No."

Her face crumpled and the next sob caught painfully in her chest and she needed Rachel's arms to stop vibrating nervously at her sides and be around her, but . . . but they were in the hallway and people were already staring. She hated that she still cared about that even now, she hated that Rachel cared enough about her caring and out of _respect_ was staying a good arms length away when Quinn just wanted her to crush her in a hug, to hell with the consequences.

But as it happened, Rachel was doing the thinking for both of them.

"Quinn," she whispered, just loud enough to carry over her crying. "Quinn, sweetheart, you need to shout at me to leave you alone, okay? And then you're going to . . ."

She only half listened, the other half still hearing Coach Sylvester's words over and over and wondering why Rachel never wanted to hug her any more. Was she really that awful, that much of a disgrace? Was that why Rachel was keeping her distance?

"Okay, Quinn, now."

What? Oh, right.

"No! How many times do I have to tell you, RuPaul? Stay the hell away from me!" Her voice hitched so many times it came out feeble but it wasn't like everyone couldn't already see she was in floods of tears.

By the end of lunch they'd all know why too.

Rachel, looking so hurt that Quinn began to cry even harder, turned on her heel and fled in the opposite direction. Oh God, Rachel knew she hadn't meant that, right? Wasn't it all part of the plan? But why would Rachel want to help her when she kept shouting at her so horribly like that in public?

Most of the students who had been taking their time so they could gawp scurried away when she shouted, lest they be on the receiving end of the next barb, and so she was almost alone in the corridor when she dragged leaden feet to the empty choir room. When the door closed behind her she didn't know what to do next and so, dropping her books and bag on to the top of a desk she just held her hands to her face and gave in to a good sob-fest.

She was still in the middle of it when Rachel came in through the other door. Quinn wouldn't even have known she was there if she hadn't softly said,

"Can I have your key, please?"

"Bag. Side pocket," she whimpered.

The locks on both doors clicked a moment later and this time she heard Rachel's hesitant approach.

"Can you tell me what happened now?"

Quinn turned, throwing her arms around Rachel and collapsing against the smaller girl with her face buried in her neck.

"Oh, uh, Quinn . . ."

"Please don't push me away!"

"I would never but . . . um, I _am_ about to fall over."

"What?"

The question was answered physically as the full weight of Quinn's taller frame proved too much to be supported on short notice and they fell. Thankfully Rachel had the presence of mind to lurch to the side and they fell on the piano stool, Rachel first, Quinn in her lap.

"Sorry," she snivelled, self-conscious over her utter breakdown and worried that she was completely squashing her.

Automatically, she tried to stand, but was restrained by Rachel's arms wrapping firmly around her middle. "It's okay. Stay. You're fine. It's okay, Quinn."

She snivelled some more. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, very sure. Now talk to me."

"Can I, um . . .?"

Rachel tilted her head to the side, exposing her neck. Quinn brushed some dark hair aside before dropping her nose to the skin and taking a deep, calming breath.

"What does it mean that this doesn't even feel weird any more?" she murmured before doing it again.

"We both know what it means," Rachel murmured back. "So is that why you're so upset? Because your morning sickness is back? You know it will pass again."

"No, I . . ." A fresh wave of tears came over her. "I'm not a . . . not a _Cheerio_ any more."

"What? Why?"

"I guess Coach changed her mind. Realized how embarrassing it will be for her to have a fat girl on the squad. Why does it matter why. It was the only thing I had left going for me, and now _that's_ gone too. I'm just . . . I don't know what to _do_. I don't even know who I _am_ any more."

"But Quinn you're pregnant, not _fat_."

"Uh, yeah, I know that but one inevitably leads to the other."

"Not necessarily. If you take care with your diet and exercize gently throughout then you should never gain more than the weight of the baby. And anyway, you have weeks yet until you start sho . . ."

Quinn drew back when Rachel playfully rubbed a hand over her abs – playfully like Brittany might. There was not an ounce of the usual awe and gratitude that accompanied this level of touching between them. At least not on Rachel's part. It stung, but she couldn't bring herself to jump up from her lap and put a stop to the contact between them completely and so she didn't get it when Rachel was the one to flinch back as if Quinn _had_ slapped at her fingertips.

". . .wing. Oh."

"What's wrong? I didn't mind," she said quietly to reassure her. "I mean, yes it was a little over-familiar for someone who only wants to be _friends_ now, but I _am_ sitting on you lap so . . ."

"No. It's nothing. Everything is as it should be!"

That didn't match up to anything Quinn had said at all, inciting her curiosity.

"Obviously," she said with mild sarcasm, and was then even more confused when she was encouraged to stand up by Rachel bouncing her knees up and down and, you know, _pushing_ at her to make her move.

She staggered a step at the sudden ejection and then smoothly turned to face Rachel. "What's going on?"

"Going on? Why would anything be going on with you?" Rachel was already on her feet too. "I just have to, um, yes I have somewhere to be."

Why was Rachel looking at her stomach like that as she was edging around her to the door?

"Stop!" Rachel didn't. "I thought you were being there for me!"

Deep brown eyes filled with _guilt_ shot up to meet her own. "I am, always. I just . . ." they were back down at her stomach again. " . . . I hope you both have a pleasant day!"

And just like that she was gone out of the door that still had the key in it and Quinn was left staring after her, wondering what the hell had just happened.

"Wait, both of who?"

* * *

As Rachel hurried away from the Choir room before Quinn could stop her she couldn't stop looking at her hand.

It was tingling with shock, excitement _and_ discomfort because she knew something that she shouldn't be the first to know. And worse than that she hadn't even been brave enough to tell Quinn that her baby must now be showing because _she_ had been able to feel the swell beneath the same palm that she now found so interesting!

But how could she tell Quinn that the moment she was dreading the most had finally arrived? Perhaps on a normal day honesty wouldn't be so hard, but Quinn was already so low.

So Rachel spent the afternoon hiding from Quinn. Even in the one class they shared –Math – she broke with her usual pattern and sat in the back corner and held her textbook up to hide her face when Quinn entered and took her usual seat in the middle of the classroom.

She justified the deceit by telling herself that Quinn would notice the small bump anyway the next time she took a shower and then she would never have to know that Rachel had discovered it first. But then the thought of Quinn coming to that realization while she was on her own made her feel like even more of a coward. The fear that would strike her would be agonizing in its intensity. Rachel could picture Quinn all too well with tears mingling with the water running down her face as she trailed a hand down and realized . . . and realized . . . something . . .. Rachel had to hold her book up again to hide her blushes and decided that thinking about Quinn and showers in the same sentence wasn't helpful to this situation at all!

She knew now that she had to tell her though, and before the end of the day. She wouldn't be able to look herself in the eye if she didn't. But how, after she had run out on the obvious opportunity? Rachel was still deliberating over it when the bell rang and her indecision had her running out again before Quinn had even closed her textbook.

Agreeing to meet Noah in the time between school ending and Glee club starting had seemed like a good idea at the time. He wasn't the most consistent or dependable boyfriend but he was good at making her feel like the only girl on the bleachers when they were there alone together. So a good distraction and a way to further avoid talking to Quinn.

"You can't say that if you've never even played it!"

"I don't need to play a computer game to know that the stereotypes you say it portrays are ludicrous bordering on offensive!"

"Offensive, seriously? What the fuck? So you're saying there are _no_ Italian plumbers?"

"No! I'm saying not every Italian _is_ a plumber, any more than every Italian is a pizza maker."

"Neither am I! . . . Look, how do you know the guys who made it ain't Italian anyway?"

"I hadn't thought of that," she admitted. "That would put a different light on it. Are they?"

"How the hell should I know?"

And they were back at square one! Noah saw it too and changed the subject; with his lips. Rachel went with it, for a few minutes, but today it wasn't enough to take her mind from her worries and she soon pulled back.

"I thought we were talking about my problem regarding Quinn." She had told him all about being able to feel the baby-bump as soon as she had arrived.

"No, we were talking about Mario Brothers and how Nintendo are bringing a new game out next month and I can't freaking wait." Noah's grin was wide and excited.

"Before that."

"Oh whatever. So she's showing. It was always gonna happen sometime. But _nobody_ knew there would be another Mario game. So, sensationally-wise, it beats Quinn's _baby-bump –_ hands down, right?"

Well, that was a different reaction to the first time she'd mentioned it when he'd been curious and weirdly edgy about her answers, but it just confirmed what her daddy always said: Boys were just plain unfathomable most of the time.

And so Rachel broke up with Noah. Not because Quinn had told her to yesterday – told, not asked, incidentally – but because it was the right thing to do. They had nothing in common anyway, aside from Glee club which he hardly ever seemed to want to talk about, and if she was honest with herself she had only really gone out with him because it proved to herself and others that she wasn't pining over Quinn. Which she wasn't any more in any case, so she could just let reality speak for itself.

She had enjoyed his attention too and the fact that, unlike some people, he was happy to be out and proud as her boyfriend, but his bitter remark about how they had never been friends was as clear as a slap in the face that he'd only wanted her for one thing. Kind of like Quinn, who was happy to date her in secret but had no wish to be her friend either.

What was so wrong with her that two of the most popular kids in school were happy to make out with her but refused to be friends with her? She could be a good friend, she _knew_ she could, so why would nobody give her the chance to be?

Of course, there was another popular kid who had wanted to be her friend (and make out with her behind the closed doors of the auditorium) and she had repaid him by having an affair with his pregnant girlfriend.

Maybe she just wasn't cut out to be a friend, then. After all, it wasn't like any of the unpopular kids were falling over themselves to build a friendship with her either. If anything, they were always scrambling to get away from her.

The long and short of it, she was angry right now. Angry at Noah for turning her attempt at an amicable break-up into something acrimonious instead; angry at herself for caring when he clearly didn't and angry that Quinn was proved right about him from the start.

Glee club helped sooth her a little. Partly because having Finn back was a huge plus to their chances at Sectionals and the Club's overall dynamic, but mostly because she'd experienced a kind of gleeful madness (no pun intended) when slushying Mr. Schue. It had offset most of her fury.

It had only gone downhill from there though and it was about to get worse as Quinn cornered her by her locker. Many of the Glee kids were still busy at their own lockers so she imagined this was not going to be a pleasant confrontation but some skit on Quinn's part that she was expected to play along with to solidify the lie Rachel had perpetrated on her behalf.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry," Quinn whispered. "For dumping on you like that. It wasn't fair."

This was unexpected. Rachel started to . . .

"Don't look around. Someone will come to investigate."

"I imagine someone will at any second anyway," she replied but did as bid and fiddled about in her locker as if this conversation was an every day occurrence.

"Let me worry about that. So, are you okay?"

Had news of her and Noah spread already? "Yes, I'm fine. It's not like my heart was ever in it."

That made Quinn look like someone had just set fire to her competition pom-poms; she sucked in a breath and bit her lip before asking in a sad whisper, "Is that why you ran away earlier?"

"Of course not," she hastened to reassure her, because she didn't want Quinn to think she had left her for an urgent date with Noah. "That was for an entirely different reason, I promise."

Quinn gave a strained chuckle. "So there's more than _one_ reason? That's good to know, or you know, _not_."

Thinking about the actual reason in question Rachel unthinkingly agreed, "No, it's not."

Quinn's features hardened, "Right. So thank you for your sensitivity; it means a lot."

"I _was_ trying to be sensitive. I didn't want to blurt it out there when you were already feeling so horrible! And okay, maybe I should have told you so that you _knew,_ but I'm only human and I get scared sometimes too."

"About what?"

"About bursting your bubble. About . . ." She could tell by Quinn's face that she just had to rip the band-aid off. " . . . Quinn, you're showing," she whispered.

"Showing _what_?" she asked ignorantly but Rachel caught the flash in her eyes and knew she already had an inkling of what she was about to say next.

"You have a tangible baby-bump," she explained anyway, her voice even lower than before. "I felt it in the Choir room and . . ." Quinn's hand went to her stomach instinctively. ". . . _Don't_. Wait until we're alone."

Quinn did lift her hand back up, but quietly scoffed, "We? You couldn't wait to run off earlier. I guess _tangible evidence_ is just another reason for you to not want to be with me."

"Not at all!" If anything it was the opposite, she thought as she remembered the rush of excitement and tenderness that had accompanied the guilt. But she didn't want to go backwards and so she tacked on, "I'm still here for you, just as a fr . . ."

Quinn shook her head and looked away. "And how is having you as a friend going to help?" Rachel's bottom lip quivered but she was ready to deliver a suitably cutting remark of her own in retaliation when Quinn spoke again. " _This_ isn't something a friend can help with-" she waved towards her stomach, "-unless you have a sizeable savings account and a holiday home somewhere away from Lima that I can run away to until after the baby is born."

Rachel did in fact have both – although her savings probably weren't sizeable _enough_ to live on for a month let alone six of them – and her parents rented their apartment in Sandusky out for at least forty-eight weeks of the year and might notice if an expectant mother was suddenly occupying one of its two tiny bedrooms. Although perhaps there was a way if she could figure out the password to the guest database on her dad's laptop she might be able to make it look as though . . .

Quinn's heavy sigh brought her back to reality before she could commit fraud in her head and do her dads out of hundreds of dollars in the process. "Rachel, I can't do this. If I'm . . . my parents are going to notice and . . . and . . ."

"It'll be okay," she said soothingly, wishing she could reach out and touch her.

"It won't."

"It will! Your parents might be upset at first but at the end of the day they _love_ you and . . ."

"No, that's _your_ parents. My parents will _crucify_ me when they find out and now that . . ." she waved that hand again and chuckled painfully. ". . . "To use one of Puck's favourite phrases . . ."

"' _Shit's just about to get real'_?" she guessed.

"Exactly, but, um, how do you even know a saying with 'shit' in it?" Quinn asked, playfully reproachful.

"I did date the boy for almost four days, Quinn."

There was a pause before a hesitant, "Did?"

"We've separated. But I did it for me, you understand, not . . ."

"For me?" Rachel huffed because she had been looking forward to delivering that line ever since Noah had walked away from her, but she let Quinn continue. "I do understand. You were right to challenge me. If things were different, but they're not and we can't . . ."

"Be together? No, we can't because . . ."

"I'm a bitch? I don't mean to be, to _you_ , it's just that . . ."

"You get scared and . . ."

"Lash out at the one person who doesn't deserve it and I'm . . ."

"Sorry?"

Rachel's eyes wanted to cross with the way they kept finishing each other's sentences. She couldn't decide if it was cute or annoying, given their situation. Quinn realized it too and when Rachel made exasperated eye contact they both started to giggle; only to stop abruptly when Tina's locker banged shut and reminded them of where they were and who they were in front of.

Rachel turned back to her locker and actually did what she came here to do – like get the books she needed for the weekend. "So what _are_ you going . . ."

"To do? I honestly have no idea. Stay out of the house as much as possible and . . ."

"Wear baggy clothes?" Quinn gave a little shrug that implied she was correct. "You know that only works in . . ."

"We're about to be interrupted."

Quinn had lost her edge. "No, I was going to say: movies . . ." A cocked eyebrow brought her up to speed. "Oh. By . . .?"

"This mutton-dressed-as-pedo-bait bothering you, Q?"

Santana.

Hello, they were at _her_ locker, so what cognitive being could possibly think she was the one doing the bothering?

"Only as much as usual," Quinn replied smoothly.

"What were you two talking about?" Brittany asked.

"Glee," Rachel bit out, assuming it was expected of her.

"Yes, and how she better not even think about making a play for Finn again just because she's not with Puck any more."

Santana started laughing, "Oh yeah, heard he dumped your ass. Can't say I didn't see that coming."

Rachel looked around, indignant. "I broke up with him!"

"Like anyone would believe _that_. Face it, RuPaul, he just wanted to bag a lesbo and when you turned prude he cut his losses."

Maybe that's what Noah was telling everyone to save face or maybe Santana was just being a bitch, either way Rachel didn't dignify it with a response and turned back to her locker.

"Shouldn't you two be at Cheerios?" Quinn asked, sounding more miserable than she probably meant to.

"Coach called off practice until she decides who's gonna be the new captain," Santana said without a trace of sympathy. "So now we've rescued you from the troll's evil clutches, wanna head to Breadstix?"

"She didn't _need_ rescuing," Rachel muttered. It was to herself but Santana's sharp ears caught it anyway.

"When you corner someone by their locker against their will, Berry, it's called _stalking_."

Rachel gestured helplessly in front of her, because it was _her_ locker! But saying it out loud would just cause Quinn more questions, more stress.

But her silence only fuelled Santana's delusions and suddenly Rachel could feel her hot breath behind her ear. " _Leave_ Quinn alone, Stubbles, you get me? You better, because next time I won't be asking so nice."

How nice it was to have Santana's shoulder connecting with the middle of her back – pushing her chest first again the lockers – was debatable but before she could voice that, Quinn was saying,

"Leave the lawn ornament alone, San. I'm the one who came over and started yelling at her; and now I've said my piece lets just forget about her and go eat. I'm really looking forward to my first meal as an ex-Cheerio; I wonder what main course I should get . . . _first_."

That brought a sour look to Santana's face and just an extremely hungry one to Brittany's. They were probably not looking forward to picking through their salads while Quinn devoured half the menu in front of them.

"That baby's making you soft," Santana scoffed.

"Are you kidding me?" Quinn laughed as she started to lead the way to the exit. "The Hobbit's so in love with me I don't need your violent tactics, Santana. I can destroy her with just a look."

Rachel watched them go, knowing it was probably true.

When Quinn let the other two go around the corner ahead of her and turned back to give her a wink, Rachel knew it was _definitely_ true and she rolled her eyes with a growl and a laugh.


	18. Chapter 18

I will get faster at updating again one day, I promise. probably around the time the baby starts school :)

 **Chapter Eighteen:**

 **How Do You Know When There's An Elephant In The Room?**

 **(The Footprints In The Flour)**

Rachel wasn't entirely sure where they'd left things between them on Friday afternoon, broken but comfortable perhaps. Too close to be friends but not close enough to be more. Certainly they were in a grey area but for once she hadn't had time to dwell on it because her Dads had surprised her with a weekend trip to Chicago.

It wasn't unusual. They had family in Illinois and her Daddy travelled to Chicago often for conferences but it was the first time they'd taken her all year. She was excited; with the holidays approaching it would be a good excuse for a shopping spree in the big city and they were going to take in a show on the Saturday night if they could get tickets and just the whole idea of a weekend away with her parents undivided attention was wonderful.

And it was good, she really did enjoy herself. After a night in an up-market hotel – in which she was allowed her own room for the first time instead of having to share a family room with her parents – on Saturday morning they hit the shops and her Dad let her go a little wild with his credit card.

She bought enough new clothes between half a dozen stores to replace a third of her wardrobe, as well as stacks of sheet music for songs she wanted to persuade Mr Schuester to try in Glee. And a new bedazzler gun to use on her school stationary. She was a having the greatest time, in fact, until they walked past a particular store front and something came over her.

The feeling that she was passing something important tugged her back until she was looking through the plate glass window at a . . . a crib.

It was a very nice crib of glazed pine with frilly white lace finishings standing alone in the center of the display. There was a mobile of brightly coloured teddy-bears dangling above. Any baby would be lucky to sleep in it. Although, she noted, only those babies who's parents could afford the $800 price tag would ever have the chance to. That seemed a little extravagant for a _baby_ bed, but what did Rachel know. Would Quinn need a crib? Or would the baby not stay with her for long enough? It had been a few weeks since Mrs. Schuester's name had come up so was that still happening? And if it was, did Finn know yet?

"Baby Girl?"

"Coming, Daddy."

Leaving the nursery display and all thoughts of babies where she'd found them, she caught up with her Dads.

At least she tried to but, for reasons she really couldn't explain, the feeling that something was amiss remained a vague presence at the back of her mind.

It next reared its head when they were eating lunch only a table away from the restrooms in a crowded restaurant. It wasn't a prime seating area but they'd been lucky to get a table at all without reservations and the food was good enough that the constant traffic of people heading to and from the restrooms didn't subtract from the dining experience.

Until, that is, Rachel noticed them.

Pregnant women were everywhere! At least one in five of the women that passed their table seemed to be with child, mostly modest but obvious bumps that suggested they were about half way to full term, much further along than Quinn was if she was any judge.

She tried to ignore them and enjoy her meal but as the seemingly endless stream continued she became distracted, picking at her food as she imagined how Quinn would look in the various stages passing before her. Would she glow as much as that lady? Or would her ankles get as fat as _that_ lady? Would she carry her passenger with as much grace as the lady passing now? Or would she be as heavy-footed and uncomfortable as the lady that passed a few minutes later?

"Everything okay with your food, Rach?"

"What? Oh, oh yes, thank you, Dad. I was just thinking." She dug back in before either of them could ask what about.

The show they saw that evening at the Chicago Theatre was at least a thorough distraction. She'd seen an amateur performance of Fiddler on the Roof a few years ago at the Lima Playhouse but it was nothing compared to the magic that was happening before her very eyes tonight.

It was only after the show – and a late dinner which thankfully only yielded one or two pregnant women in the same restaurant – and when she retired to her room, that the unsettling feelings of the day came back upon her.

As she settled into the strange but crisp and comfortable bed she did her best to analyse her sudden fixation with pregnancy. It wasn't like she hadn't thought about Quinn's situation in detail before. She was – or had been – her morning sickness cure and Rachel had thoroughly researched her pregnancy guide before typing up a final version and giving it to Quinn for reference, but this didn't feel like that.

Before it had been purely objective; in the beginning she had just seen it was a way to get close to the girl and when they _had_ grown closer she'd just wanted to help as much as she could.

Now . . .

She lay quietly in the dark for a long time, just mulling it over, and then slowly raised her hand from beneath the covers and held it over her face. She couldn't _see_ it, except for a slightly pale line that was her pinky finger illuminated by the digital display of her travel alarm clock, but she didn't need to be able to see it to know what she was looking at.

The hand that had been pressed to Quinn's stomach the day before. The hand that had felt the difference in Quinn's body before the other girl had even known it was there. The hand, the first hand ever, to feel the physical presence of the baby.

Quinn's baby.

Quinn's baby girl.

She stared blindly at her hand, smiling stupidly for no good reason – as in there was a reason, just not a good one – before letting her hand crash back down on the bed and pulling the spare pillow over her face to groan in to.

Oh _Barbra_ , she'd only gone and _bonded_ with Quinn's baby!

* * *

She intercepted the first doctors bill by chance.

Collecting the stack from the mailbox as she always did on Monday mornings and carrying them into the house to place beside her Daddy's plate at the breakfast table. It was only because it happened to be on top of the pile that she noticed it was for her and was able to snatch it away and hide it inside her cardigan.

She felt a jolt of icy fear at the close call and had to sit on the bottom stair for a few minutes until the threat of a panic attack had faded.

When she finally entered the kitchen and delivered the mail, her Mom's curious eyes were looking her up and down before she could even take her seat.

"Where's your uniform, Quinnie?"

Oh, right, in her alarm over the doctor's letter she'd forgotten to be prepared for this. She had thought about making something up about how it was no longer compulsory to wear their uniforms all day. She could work in something about the wear and tear being too costly or Principal Figgins deciding it wasn't acceptable dress code, but it would take next to no time for that lie to catch up with her. So she had opted for the truth.

Sort of.

"I decided to sit the rest of the year out. It was becoming a little demanding. I need my grades to be perfect if I'm to get into all of the AP classes I want next year and . . ."

"If it's a time issue you should have given up that music club, not Cheerios," her Mom's voice was sharp, making Quinn sit up even straighter. "What were you thinking?"

"Mom, Glee is an hour a day at most, and a few competitions a year. Cheerios is a like a full time occupation and you know it only gets worse when the competition season starts. Coach Sylvester has us touring the state every weekend going to this Cheer Fling and that Spirit Festival. Not to mention after school practices triple in the months running up to Nationals!"

"It sounds like Quinn knows what's she's doing, Judy." Her Daddy leaned over to pat her shoulder, "You're a good girl, honey, for putting your school work first. But if its really getting to be that much for you, perhaps you should quit this Glee club too."

"No! I mean, I need at least one extra curricular to put on my college applications for this year and, besides, singing has proven therapeutic qualities that enhance mental stimulation."

"But, Quinnie, you're the _Captain_ , why would you want to walk away from that?"

She didn't, she _hadn't_ , she hated that she'd been forced to give it up! But she kept her face impassive and shrugged slightly.

"I intend to try out again next year. And I'll make Captain again."

And she would, as soon as this baby business was over she'd get back on top. She had too.

After only a few bites of toast she left the table with the excuse that she had to get to school early to turn in her uniforms – which wasn't really an excuse because she really did have to do that – but it wasn't why she was so eager to leave. That had more to do with the envelope burning a hole through her cardigan pocket.

"Oh, before you go." She turned dutifully back to her mom as she settled her plate in the sink. "The tickets to the Chastity Ball arrived. They're on the counter there."

Glancing at the two tickets propped up against the wall she smiled before she could remember that she was a total hypocrite. She'd been really looking forward to attending the dance with her Daddy and now . . .

He was grinning affectionately at her and so she forced herself to keep her own smile.

"That's nice. I can't wait to go." After a moments hesitation she rushed back and kissed him on the cheek. It may have come from guilt on her part but he just laughed and hugged her waist for a second. "I'll see you after school. Bye."

She waited until she was in the school parking lot twenty minutes later – it had taken her a while to find decent spot now she no longer had her own designated Cheerios parking space – before ripping open the envelope.

What? How the . . .? No way! How on _Earth_ . . .?

She'd known the sonogram would be expensive but nowhere near _this_ expensive. There was no way she was going to find this kind of money before the payment date.

She was so _fucking_ screwed!

* * *

Rachel had been fully on board with the idea of a bake sale. Making money so that Artie could ride with them to Sectionals was all a part of what made Glee club special, something worth belonging too. She couldn't understand why everyone else was so down on the idea. Hadn't they all had fun doing the car wash together? Even if the end result had been anything but fun.

Not that she actually knew how to make cupcakes but she could throw together a decent batch of cookies given enough alone time in the kitchen and someone to clear up after her.

So she'd been a little disappointed when Artie had said he'd be happy to have his Dad drive him and thereby ending the bonding experience before it could even begin.

Maybe it was just as well. Developing strong ties to another human being was dangerous, leading to all kinds of problems like sleep deprivation, loss of appetite, panic attacks. . . _social anxiety_ she added, as her palms started to sweat when she realized her path to the door was going to cross Quinn's. Rachel hovered by her chair to avoid it.

How could she get attached to a bump? Barely a bump at that! Only a couple of weeks ago she had counted the baby very firmly in the con column, because Quinn being pregnant only added to the long list of things against them. Now they weren't even together but after just one touch of that bump, no the . . . _bumplet_ , she had . . . she was . . .

She'd spent most of Sunday afternoon at her Grandmother's house watching her knit – because she was always knitting when she wasn't trolling the internet – wondering how hard it was to make booties and daydreaming about strolling around _Babies "R" Us_ with Quinn whilst enjoying unlimited access to her Dad's credit card. To flesh out her fantasy she had managed to compile quite an extensive list of the items an expectant mother might need and—

Because she'd been _hovering,_ Quinn _strolled_ out of the Choir room unimpeded, hand in hand with Finn.

—it was a list she _really_ didn't want or need in her head.

* * *

He had to be kidding! Everyone had just found out she was pregnant and she'd just been publicly kicked off of the Cheerios and now Mr Schuester expected her to spend three hours a day in a wheelchair? Was he _trying_ to completely destroy her?

She finally kind of understood what Rachel meant now when she said he was hell-bent on trying to sabotage the diva's life.

And talking of Rachel, Quinn was pretty sure she was being ignored. True, things had been left up in the air on Friday but she thought they'd at least parted on good terms. Maybe Rachel was just being super conscientious about them not being seen together in school, except . . . she'd caught a few looks in Glee, both this morning and this afternoon that suggested there was more to it.

What had she done wrong now? Other than everything obviously.

She left a note in her locker after school that said,

 _Are we not talking now? I'll be on Facebook tonight. x_

She partly regretted it as soon as she'd slipped it in, because did it sound needy? She didn't want to come across that way. She knew they were over, she'd come to terms with it being the right thing, but . . . she couldn't help it, she missed her.

She wholly regretted it later that night when despite spending hours checking back on Facebook every twenty minutes (or more sometimes) Rachel didn't show.

As a matter of survival she'd convinced herself that Rachel just hadn't visited her locker after Glee and so hadn't gotten her note. That theory went out the window when she opened her own locker the following morning and found a folded piece of paper waiting for her.

 _Sorry. We are talking. I just have some things on my mind. I need a few days. xx_

What things? Was Rachel okay? Had something happened that she didn't know about?

Great, now she wasn't just lonely she was concerned too, making her want to speak to Rachel more than ever. But she could only assume from the note that Rachel _didn't_ want to speak to _her_ for a few days.

Why, though?

* * *

It had taken every ounce of willpower she had not to log on to Facebook the night before. It was only knowing that she'd probably start rambling about baby names and Lamaze classes that had stopped her.

She still couldn't understand this bizarre turn around but she knew it was better to keep her distance until the sudden crazy urge to start nesting had left her. If she got too close to Quinn Fabray right now there was a good chance she'd drop down on one knee and ask a question that would just embarrass them both.

So that's why she headed to the Home Ec. room at lunch – after washing the mushroom Stroganoff off of her face and changing into a new sweater. Upside: it hadn't left her freezing and the school meals were never piping hot enough to burn. Downside: getting a mushroom in the eye. – with her Tupperware boxes of ingredients. She was going to keep herself occupied and keep out of the way of Quinn by baking some of her cookies to sell at the bake sale that had now been given the green light.

That plan backfired the second she walked into the room.

"What are you doing here?"

Quinn looked up startled, a cute smudge of flour on her cheek, but smiled when she her. "Printing counterfeit money out of dough; why what does it look like?"

"Not that."

"Someone has to make the cupcakes and no one else volunteered so . . ." She shrugged.

"Well, I'm going to make cookies, so you can go now."

Quinn arched an eyebrow, "Excuse me?"

Rachel tried to keep her knees steady. "I just meant . . . never mind, I'll come back later."

She turned back to the door.

"Rachel, what's going on?"

"You know what's going on," she said quietly.

"Not really, no. What do you need a few days for?"

"I . . ." she began, and then stopped, because she couldn't tell. "You're right, I'm being silly. We can share the workspace."

There were seven or eight benches so she wasn't sure why she chose to unload her ingredients right next to Quinn, but she did and it made Quinn smile so maybe that was reason enough in the short term.

"So how was your weekend?" she asked, hoping to keep the conversation nice and casual while she laid out her tubs.

"Uneventful. Finn took me to the movies Saturday to see . . ." Rachel really hadn't meant to make that irritable little huff but Quinn changed the subject mid-sentence anyway. "Santana and Brittany came over Sunday afternoon to hang out."

She glanced over out of the corner of her eye. "To hang out?"

"The regular kind of hanging out, not our . . . the other kind."

"No. I mean I assumed that. I just meant you spent time socially with Santana. Does this mean you two are friends again?" Somehow she felt more jealous of that than of Finn.

"We never stopped being friends, but Cheerios made us rivals too, which you should get seeing as you're just as competitive as Santana and I."

"I would never use the secret of someone's sexuality as a means to further my own achievements."

"Maybe not, but you'd happily throw any of us under a bus if you thought we might take a solo from you."

"That's not true!" When Quinn eyed her dubiously she added, "I wouldn't throw _you_ under a bus."

Quinn smiled and she returned it until she felt herself getting dreamy over the look in her eyes and quickly turned away. Needing a little distance, she walked to the next bench to get the mixing bowl and measuring cups from underneath.

"Anyway," Quinn continued, "Santana doesn't actually care if I _like_ girls. She just has a problem with my _taste_ in girls."

"Meaning me?"

Quinn just shrugged at the redundant question. At least Rachel hoped it was redundant. Were there other girls she didn't know about?

She brought her foraged utensils back to the bench and set them out as she hesitantly asked, "So . . . you've talked to her about us?"

"Of course not!" Quinn sounded terrified at the very idea. "She can't ever know any of this is real. No one can."

"But won't it be difficult to keep from her if you two are best friends again?"

"Why would it be? We're not together any more and she never needs to find out that we ever were."

She didn't care that her huffy noise carried over this time and even if it hadn't the violent way she was measuring out her flour told the tale all on its own. She was sulking and she knew it and Quinn knew it but she couldn't stop. She dumped the flour in the mixing bowl so viciously it caused a mushroom cloud to rise up.

"Isn't that the reason why we broke up in the first place? So I could avoid the stress of situations exactly like that?"

" _One_ of the reasons," Rachel corrected darkly. "But I didn't expect you to enjoy your new found freedom so much." Sugar grains sprinkled in every direction as she spooned it aggressively into a measuring cup.

"Hey, careful, this is perfectly measured," Quinn warned, shielding her own mixing bowl from the flying sweetness. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"It means I don't like the fact that you want to be friends with her after everything she's done to you and, more importantly, _me_ recently. Not when you won't even entertain the idea of being friends with me and I haven't done anything wrong."

"You can't decide who I'm friends with, Rachel."

"I know that! I don't get a say in anything. You're just living your life, having fun and friends and _babies_ and I'm just making cookies!" Rachel squeezed the open carton of milk she was about to pour too hard and it squirted up and out, over her hand and wrist and all over half of the bench.

Quinn jumped back from the mess, taking her bowl with her. "Okay, what is going on with you?"

"Nothing, I'm fine." She poured what was left in the carton into her mixing bowl with a shaking hand and went to get a stack of blue paper towels.

"You are not _fine_." She took half of the towels from Rachel and started to clean up the bench. "Now talk to me."

"I simply had a stressful weekend. I'm sorry for taking it out on you. Lets talk about something else."

"Okay, what did you do this weekend?"

"I was requesting more of a change of subject than that, Quinn."

"Too bad. So what did you do?"

She sighed, "My parents took me to Chicago."

"For . . . electro-shock therapy? Dinner with a serial killer? To watch puppies being kicked? I mean it must have been something like that to put you in this mood."

She sighed again but gave her a little smile for her effort which Quinn returned. "We have family there and my Dads took me shopping and we ate in some really nice restaurants and saw _Fiddler on the Roof_ Saturday night."

"Sounds awful." Quinn's deadpan expression was perfect and it garnered a little giggle from Rachel. "I saw 'Revenge of the Really Fake Gross Zombie's' on Saturday night." Rachel frowned and Quinn shrugged. "I don't know what it was really called, but _that_ was awful. If Finn ever tells you he can get you guys into an R-rated movie? Don't get excited. They only don't card on the really bad ones. He loved it obviously," she added with a roll of her eyes.

Well, if nothing else it had taken her mind off of her own problems because, "Why would Finn be taking me to see a movie?"

"Oh. Right. Yeah. He won't be." She chuckled, "Think yourself lucky."

"That's me; lucky."

She hadn't meant to sound despondent again but Quinn picked up on it immediately. They were so in tune now. It was such a waste of awesome potential.

"So come on. What was so bad about shopping, eating good food and watching a show. Sounds like the perfect weekend to me. Apart from the watching a show part," she added, grinning.

"Quinn, _Fiddler on the Roof_ happens to be one of the . . ."

"Gnome, stop avoiding and tell me what's upset you! If I have to go and kick Chicago's ass I at least want to know why."

Her heart fluttered, eroding some of her will to be strong. She grabbed the electric mixer and bent her head over the bowl, hoping the device would drown out most of her words.

"I spent most of the weekend counting pregnant women."

"What?"

"They were everywhere! Baby-filled bellies coming at me from all sides. It was too much!"

"What? Why?"

Rachel looked pointedly down at Quinn's abdomen.

She covered it with her hand. "Don't."

"See, that's the problem!"

"What is? I don't understand." When she didn't answer, Quinn reached over and snatched the mixer from her, splattering Rachel with sludgy cookie dough before she could turn it off. "Rachel, how did seeing a few pregnant women turn you into . . . _this_?"

Rachel refused to open her mouth. How could she tell Quinn the truth? And even if she did it wouldn't change anything.

"Okay, if you want to do it the hard way . . ."

Her eyes went wide as Quinn picked one of her eggs up between finger and thumb and showed it to her before raising it to head height – Rachel's head height! "Just remember sweetie, your stubbornness is the the reason why you have egg on your face."

"Quinn, no! Think of the baby chicken!"

Quinn passed the egg from hand to hand as Rachel tried to snatch it away but always kept it in the air. "Are you going to tell me everything?"

"No! Okay, okay!" She batted desperately at the egg some more, trying to get it away from her. "I want to be your birthing partner and learn how to knit booties!"

"You what? Are you crazy? Take it back!" Quinn insisted with a laugh, "and tell me the real reason."

"I will not and that is! I want to scour the globe for piccalilli flavor ice-cream at three am and sing show tunes to your tummy!"

They wrestled for the egg above their heads.

"Gnome, I'm warning you!"

"I'll never back down!"

SPLAT

Quinn froze.

"Oh Barbra!"

"I can't believe you just did that!" Bits of shell fell from Quinn's forehead as yellow and white embryonic fluid dripped from her eyebrows to her cheeks. "I hope the baby chick haunts you forever!"

"Ha! The _yokes_ on you because baby chicks always haunt their last resting place – your face!" Rachel cackled and pointed triumphantly and then took a quick, strategic step back.

It wasn't far enough to stop the sudden handful of powdery cake mix from hitting her full on and she spluttered as it went in her mouth and up her nose.

"Are you trying to choke me?"

"Yes!" Quinn threw another handful. "And I can't believe you just made that pun."

Still spluttering, or spluttering all over again, she was quick to retaliate and Quinn gasped as she was hit in the kisser with a thick glob of sticky cookie dough. She licked it from her lips even as she showered Rachel with what was left in her bowl.

"Take that!"

"Take this!" Rachel up-ended her bag of sugar on Quinn's head, most of it stuck to the egg still dripping down her face, crystallising her forehead and cheeks.

"You bi . . ." She was laughing too hard to finish the insult, saving her energy for scooping a handful of cookie dough from Rachel's bowl and smearing it all down one side of her face. "Ha!"

"You'll pay for that, Quinn Fabray!" She grabbed the nearly full pack of butter and held it high.

Quinn caught her by the arms before she could smoosh it into her hair and, giggling too hard to help herself, she fell against Quinn as she tried to catch her breath.

Impossible when Quinn's eyes were warm and playful and _right there_ and Rachel started to forget herself.

"Uh, what's going on?"

Letting go of her arms Quinn stepped back, switching her attention to the voice at the door. "We're baking," she explained with a giggle she couldn't contain.

"I can see that."

Rachel turned on her toes with a bright smile. "Would you like some cookie dough, Finn? I think there's still a little left in the bowl." She looked down at her flour-dusted sweater. With the reindeer on the front it made her look like a poorly frosted Christmas cake but at least it was the perfect excuse to extract herself from this awkwardness. "I need to go and change into my gym clothes."

"Don't you usually have a spare outfit here?" Finn asked as she neared him.

She thumbed the pattern in the centre of her chest. "This is it. The first fell to a mushroom stroganoff half an hour ago. Quinn is being nothing if not thorough today."

Quinn's voice carried into the corridor as Rachel slipped outside. "Hey, if she didn't keep cornering me I wouldn't have to resort to slapping her in the face with cookie dough. She's relentless, Finn! You're just lucky it's not you she likes."

Relentless, really? The comment pulled a trigger within her, but not in a bad way necessarily. More like in a slightly evil way. If Quinn wanted to keep up the pretence that Rachel was _after her_ still then she was happy to oblige. She'd show her relentless! Scooping some sweet dough from her cheek and sucking it slowly from her finger she walked away with a plan in her heart and a devilish grin on her lips.


	19. Chapter 19

With big thanks to my new beta Frannie1987, I offer you the next chapter.

 **Chapter Nineteen:**

 **The Cupcakes and the Golden Goose**

The first bake sale happened in the cafeteria after school in place of Glee. Despite classes having finished for the day it was still busy, thanks to all the sports and extra-curricular clubs McKinley offered its student body.

Not that anybody was coming anywhere near their table. Quinn wasn't impressed. She'd spent time making these cupcakes. A lot of time seeing as how she'd had to start again from scratch after her first attempt had ended up all over Rachel. Finn had stayed to help, probably scared that Rachel would pop back in if he didn't, but his _help_ had mostly consisted of eating more of the red frosting than he'd smeared on top of the cakes and then licking all of the bowls clean. He had also questioned her incessantly about Rachel's presence whilst steadfastly refusing to answer her questions about whether or not he had been looking for work the night before.

All in all, she was infuriated by the whole thing and being stuck in the wheelchair wasn't improving her mood and neither did Brittany hanging out with that Becky Jolsen or whatever her name was – okay Quinn wasn't captain of the Cheerios any more so maybe it shouldn't matter to her but there was such a thing as standards and Santana should be doing something about it instead of sitting there all pouty because Brittany had a friend who wasn't her.

So when Rachel wheeled up with a beaming smile Quinn wanted nothing more than to grab her hand and roll off into the sunset with her . . . but of course she couldn't do _that._

Standards, somebody had to maintain them.

"What are you doing here, Manhands?"

"I've come to help, of course. This is a Glee club endeavour and as a principal member I feel . . ."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Santana cut in, unwittingly doing Quinn's dirty work for her. "Take a look around, Stubbles; do you see any other losers at this table?" Rachel's lips twitched but she held her tongue. "Exactly. We're having enough trouble selling any without you being the face of our product, so scram."

"I really must insist . . ."

"Insist all you want," Quinn said blithely. "You're wearing your _gym clothes_ . . ." And looking cuter in them than anyone had a right to look. ". . . nobody is going to buy a cupcake contaminated by your sweat. Go away."

Rachel glared at her and did a nine-point turn to wheel out of the cafeteria altogether.

Finn chose the wrong time to suggest they put jelly-beans on top of _her_ cupcakes to make them more appetising and she couldn't help tearing into him until he stood, kicked his chair and stormed away.

Rachel couldn't deny that Finn saying he liked her made her go a little fluttery inside. It was nice and he'd been the only one to offer her any help when her wheelchair had refused to go in straight lines any more.

 _Noah_ , who had been her boyfriend until just a few days before, had laughed to see her spinning in circles! As had Mercedes and Kurt. Artie had simply told her to figure it out herself because it was all good, character-building experience.

If she had the capacity to hate she . . . wouldn't like them all very much right now. Except Finn, who had turned out to be her knight in shining armour even though he had more reasons to not help her than any of them.

So, yes, she felt guilty about her inward smile when Quinn came in and started yelling that she was going to cut him off if he didn't find the money to pay the sonogram bill. But only a little and she came up with a way to appease that guilt immediately.

More importantly, Quinn had threatened to break up with him if he didn't start helping her! Some people might think it was foolish then that Rachel's first thought was to help Finn get a job, but she knew this was a marathon and not a sprint. Quinn wasn't really going to break up with Finn just like that because she cared about him, obviously, but she did need money right away. Rachel could help her get money and prove to Quinn how resourceful (read: good parent material) she could be at the same time.

It was win, win for her really.

* * *

The second bake sale got underway at lunch the next day. Rachel's help had been impolitely declined once again but she refused to leave this time. Instead she hovered in her wheelchair just to the side of the table.

They sold a few today, because it was lunch time and even losers liked cupcakes and they didn't mind buying from other losers, but they'd still only made twelve dollars after the first half an hour.

Rachel couldn't understand it. Why wouldn't anyone want to snap up sugary treats made by Quinn Fabray's fair hands? This batch even had an assortment of colored jelly-beans or, alternatively, glazed cherries on top. They looked delicious!

"Berry, if you're going to sit there getting all gooey-eyed over them you could at least buy one," Noah eventually said and she couldn't think of an idea she liked more.

"Okay." She fished a dollar out of her purse and awkwardly rolled forward with it in her hand. Noah tried to take it but she purposefully handed it to Quinn, who took it with a frown on her face and chuckle in her eyes. "I'll take that one."

She pointed to the one closest to Quinn, the red icing was less than perfect but the glistening red cherry was calling her name.

"Then take it," the blonde was still frowning.

"That's not very good service, Quinn. No wonder nobody wants to buy from you," she said, but leaned over to grab it anyway.

Santana laughed, "Don't criticize her salesmanship, Midget, just because she ain't selling what you want."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Santana, surely you know the key to real salesmanship is to truly get out there and sell it by any means necessary?"

Not waiting for an answer, she caught Quinn's eye again and slowly licked the frosting from one side of the cupcake. Quinn's left eye twitched. Rachel did the same on the other side, catching the red icing on the tip of her tongue before pulling it into her mouth. Both of Quinn's eyes blew wide now and she had to fight really hard not to smirk as she savored the sweetness in her mouth before swallowing it.

She hadn't really noticed that anyone else had caught on to her blatant display until delicately licking the cherry proved to be a step too far, because as Quinn blushed bright pink Santana hooted, "She totally wants to take your cherry with her tongue, Q! This is too awesome!"

Mortified, Quinn stood up from her wheelchair, reached across the table and smooshed the rest of the cupcake into her face. Satisfied only once the shiny red cherry was wedged in her left nostril, Quinn sat back down and calmly dusted off her hands with a paper napkin.

"No sale, Berry. Find someone else to get your rocks off to."

Rachel wheeled away scattering crumbs and dripping frosting, and counting that as a success.

* * *

 **Quinn** **:** You are BANNED from the bake sale from now on!

 **Rachel:** I object!

 **Quinn:** You can object all you want. If you come within TEN FEET of that table again I won't be held accountable for my actions.

 **Rachel:** :D

 **Quinn:** Rachel!

 **Quinn:** Do you have any idea how stupid that was? You can't just act like that. It's not okay.

 **Rachel:** Act like what, Quinn? I was just savoring my cupcake.

 **Quinn:** You were not! You were being all

 **Quinn:** Suggestive and stuff.

 **Rachel:** Are you blushing right now? ;)

 **Rachel:** I'm going to take your refusal to answer as a yes.

 **Quinn:** Just don't do it ever again! What if someone had, what am I saying, they did see, all of them!

 **Rachel:** Yes, Quinn, they saw me make an inappropriate pass at you, and then they saw you reject my advances and tell me to get lost. All in all, they simply saw evidence of what we've been trying to convince them of. I'm not sure why you think that's a bad thing.

Several minutes later.

 **Quinn:** What if they'd seen through me?

 **Rachel:** Unless they had direct access to your underwear I'm not sure how they could have.

 **Quinn:** Rachel!

 **Rachel:** LOL

 **Quinn:** I'm going now! Ten feet, Rachel, I mean it!

 **Rachel:** Okay. Goodnight, Quinn. :)

 **Quinn:** Goodnight, you evil little Gnome x

* * *

The following day, Rachel dutifully didn't approach the bake sale table. It wouldn't do her master plan any good to really upset Quinn so she was going to save her next seduction tactic until she was able to get her alone.

She had more important things to worry about than Artie's transport today anyway. Her competition with Kurt was in just a few hours and she spent most of the lunch hour in the auditorium practising. She wasn't especially nervous about the performance itself, she _knew_ she could sing Defying Gravity better than Kurt, but she was still convinced that despite the lacklustre agreement to vote on talent alone it was going to turn into a popularity contest and, well at best she'd have only two people on her side.

She did poke her head through the cafeteria doors towards the end of lunch though, just to see how they were getting on and . . it was just as well she wasn't allowed to approach because she wouldn't have been able to squeeze in anywhere anyway.

They were swamped!

People were buying them faster than Noah could take the money – they were letting _him_ take the money? That didn't seem the wisest idea – and Finn, Santana and Quinn were laughing and joking around as they doled them out in a way they certainly hadn't been the rest of the week. It gave her a little pang of disappointment that she _couldn't_ be over there with them, but even if she hadn't pulled her little stunt yesterday she still never would have been included. This was Quinn in her element, holding the school in the palm of her hand again with her friends by her side, even if the school _was_ only eating out of her palm because there was a cupcake in it.

It made the pang bigger, because this was what she wanted. To be in Quinn's life and enjoy moments like this with her. She'd give anything to be sitting in Santana's place right now, or better yet, Finn's as he gave her another napkin to wipe frosting from her fingers and leaned closer to say something that even Noah right beside them couldn't hear, something that made Quinn roll her eyes but laugh and use said napkin to wipe some crumbs from his cheek.

It was too much and she had to stop thinking about it. There were more important things to focus on, remember? The diva-off should be her top priority. She was about to leave, so that she could concentrate on that and not the way Quinn was giggling with Santana over something – because in some ways that was even worse – but her eyes made a final sweep of the room first and something she noticed stopped her exit.

She wasn't entirely sure what she was noticing at first. Nearly everyone in the large room was eating a cupcake, some had two or three amassed before them, barely finishing chewing the first before starting on the next. Cooked and cold lunches were pushed aside and forgotten in favor of sugary indulgence and everywhere Rachel looked lips and chins were sticky with red frosting and speckled with creamy crumbs. Everyone was talking too, often with their mouth's full which was gross but not particularly unusual for the McKinley cafeteria at lunch time unfortunately, but everyone was _really_ talking. It was . . . the entire room was a big bubble of sound as conversations overlapped and became louder and louder, laughter was threading its way through every discussion, deep chuckles, high pitched giggling and more than the occasional shriek of amusement buffeted Rachel where she stood. It was more than that though, it was . . .

She watched as a red-headed Freshman realized he was down to his last bite of cake and immediately turned back to the bake sale table as he pulled a dollar from his pocket, apparently having forgotten he still held another whole cake in his other hand.

That wasn't normal.

Neither was the bonhomie currently uniting the room usually full of judgemental and often downright cruel students. The talking, the laughing, it was crossing the normally set in stone divides. Rachel saw Azimo Adams swipe one of Artie's cupcakes – not so unusual – and then laugh, high-five him and hand over a dollar bill. On the other side of the room, Kassie – bitch extraordinaire – was sitting at the same table as Brittany, Becky Jackson, Suzie Pepper and Tina, gossiping away like they'd all been best friends forever.

What . . . the . . . _heck_!

The first bell signalling the end of lunch rang right above where she was standing and Rachel nearly jumped out of her skin, but nobody else seemed to even hear it. Where there would usually be a flurry of chairs scraping back and people queuing to take their plates to the tray return, there was just more talking, laughing, lounging around . . .

Except for at the bake sale table where they were packing up the empty plates and getting ready to leave. Quinn caught her eye as she stood up and gave her a tiny smile but Rachel's eyes were narrowing on Noah as he stuffed another handful of notes into the change box and then left quickly with it.

She didn't know what was going on, but she knew he was at the bottom of it and she would find out, but later, because right now she had to go and try and pay attention to two more lessons while panicking about kicking Kurt's butt in the diva-off.

* * *

The Defying Gravity competition had been giving her heartburn all week. Okay, so maybe some of it might have been the baby (and the bake sale) but mostly she was worried about Rachel.

She liked Kurt well enough. His snarky attitude appealed to her even if she didn't appreciate when it was aimed at her and hypothetically she saw no problem with him singing this song even if he was a boy. But he was going up against Rachel which automatically made him the enemy.

She could tell Rachel was nervous the moment she walked in the door and in a weird sort of way she was pleased that Finn left her side immediately to go and offer her some words of encouragement. She'd still give him hell for it later obviously, but yeah it made her feel better that _someone_ was openly on Rachel's side, even if it did have to be her boyfriend.

She noticed Mike giving her a thumbs up too as he took his seat but she had to settle for a quick smile from across the room. It was the only gesture Rachel really responded to, giving her an equally fleeting smile back.

And then they were ready to go and Quinn could only sit back and act neutral.

* * *

She'd won!

And she'd won fair and square!

Kurt's voice had completely broken on the high F like he was going through puberty all over again and she'd been surprised to say the least. She'd always known she would be better, but she hadn't expected it to be so easy. Kurt must have practiced, he must have known he could do it or why would he put himself forward? Maybe the pressure had gotten to him. If so it was just as well they'd found out now because they would have been a laughing stock if he'd cracked like that at Sectionals! She did feel a little bad for him; he'd made such a show of wanting this solo – his dad had even come down to the school to insist he got a fair chance – and so to blow it like that in front of everyone must feel awful.

It was very good, however, for her, because now nobody could dispute that she was the right person to sing the song. And while her applause may have been even more muted than Kurt's the votes had gone in her favor. At the end of the day, people wanted to win, and Kurt wasn't that much more popular than she was when it came right down to it.

As always, she was the last to leave the Choir room and she hummed Defying Gravity to herself as she took her time packing up her belongings.

She was just pushing her Glee folder into her bag when she heard a key turn in the door behind her. It alarmed her for a second; thinking that a janitor had accidentally locked her in. But after spinning to face the door she relaxed into a smile.

"I only have a few minutes."

Rachel nodded.

"Santana and Brittany are dragging me to Breadstix again."

Rachel nodded.

"But I thought you might like someone to celebrate with, really quickly."

Rachel nodded.

"So . . ."

"Celebrate how?" she finally asked, smiling.

"Well, jumping up and down is out, because it makes the baby bounce on my bladder, but maybe you can talk incessantly for two minutes and I can listen?"

"For once, I don't feel like talking," she said, still smiling as she closed some of the distance between them.

"Come here." Quinn met her halfway, arms circling her waist as soon as she was close enough. "You were awesome," she promised, squeezing her tight. "You were so good. I don't even know why I was worried."

Rachel pulled back to glare at her. "You were worried I _wouldn't_ be good enough?"

Quinn grinned, "I always knew _you'd_ be excellent, I just didn't know how good Kurt might be."

Rachel frowned. "I thought he'd be better. Not that I'm not pleased that he wasn't, obviously, but he has a _good_ range. I'm surprised he didn't nail it."

"Santana thinks his balls must have finally dropped from all the pressure."

"Quinn!"

The ex-cheerleader laughed, "I'm just repeating what Santana said. Personally I think you were just so darn good that he lost his nerve. He botched the note on purpose so that he could feel better when you inevitably won."

She shook her head, "If he'd hit the high F as perfectly as I did, he would have won."

"Are you kidding. I don't know who sang it originally, but I'll put money on the fact that you were better than them!"

Rachel unhooked her arms from around Quinn's neck to put her hands on her hips. "Seriously? Have you never heard the _Wicked!_ soundtrack? Why do I even like you? I mean, really, how can you . . ."

"I'll download it tonight," Quinn promised, cutting her off. "But I can guarantee you now, you're better."

She smiled bashfully, arms curling around Quinn's neck again. "Oh yeah, that's why I like you."

"I have to go," Quinn softly reminded her.

"Okay."

"That means you have to _let_ go, Rachel."

"Oh, right." Her hands slid to Quinn's shoulders. "Can I at least have a celebratory kiss?"

"I don't think that's really . . ."

Rachel rocked up on her toes to press her lips to Quinn's.

". . . appropriate."

Rachel did it again, because goodness knows Quinn's lips were moreish. Quinn's arms went around her back once more, keeping her on tiptoes as their lips met in a series of tiny, chaste kisses.

Too soon she made the mistake of pushing her hand into Quinn's hair and slanting her mouth to open up their kisses and Quinn pulled away.

"No. I have to go."

"But . . ."

"Rachel." Quinn placed one last kiss on her forehead and then stepped away completely. "You broke up with me, remember? But congratulations, okay? You deserved the win."

"I think I deserve a lot more than that," she pouted.

Quinn chuckled, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Facebook, later?" she called out when Quinn was already unlocking the door.

The blonde looked over her shoulder but her face was neutral now. "I don't know. Maybe."

And then Rachel was staring at the door closing behind her, wondering how it was fair that Quinn could come in and toy with her emotions like that and then leave again without giving her anything solid to build on.

There was only one answer: it wasn't fair.

And because deep down she _wanted_ to keep letting her, there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it.

* * *

When Friday recess rolled around – and that was an apt way of putting it – Rachel and Finn left school grounds, with a note from Miss. Pilsbury giving them permission, to go and get the boy a job.

Rachel had researched a lot over the previous two evenings and had narrowed down her targets to the three companies most likely to be susceptible to her charms and they got lucky on the second one.

Providing Finn didn't forget himself and leap out of his wheelchair to scratch his butt or something equally stupid, he now had a job at Lima's premiere funeral home greeting prospective clients – or the client's recently bereaved loved ones anyway.

* * *

Quinn didn't even know why she still got weak in the knees when Puck looked at her _this_ way.

Did it mean she wasn't gay after all? Because that would be a really good thing.

She felt a ridiculous need to test it though, even as Puck was giving her puppy eyes that kind of made her want to marry him on the spot.

The test: Puck _doing_ her versus, um . . . Rachel smiling at her.

Yeah, there was really no contest, she was team: Rachel all the way.

But that didn't change the fact that Puck could and was right now also making her feel things. She hated that he was such an ass in general because if he wasn't – and if she wasn't so damn gay for Rachel – he'd be almost perfect for her.

She told him as much when she apologised for calling him a Lima Loser and, God, did she need the money he was offering but no, it wasn't right to take it and she loved him a little bit more when the light in his eyes agreed with her even if he couldn't make himself say it out loud.

Finn rolled up before they could talk about it any further and Quinn was both happy for the interruption and a little upset that she had to leave a moment that felt more real than _any_ that she'd had with Finn recently.

She had to fix that.

* * *

Rachel had been lurking in the shadows for five minutes.

Okay, not actual shadows so much as the doorway to the Astronomy classroom across the hall from Quinn's locker. And she hadn't actually meant to lurk at all.

She'd just arrived back at school with Finn and he'd gone in search of Quinn while she'd gone in search of Noah, determined to find out how he had caused the peaceful cupcake riot the day before. She hadn't expected to find the two of them together and had ducked into this doorway as soon as she had.

There were too many other students around to hear the whole conversation but she caught snatches of it and the body language was loud and clear. Even louder and clearer than that was Noah trying to hand over a wad of cash that Quinn refused.

Was that the bake sale money? And if so, and it was legitimate, why was Quinn refusing it?

Quinn's hand was on his chest now and he was smiling down at her while still looking like his puppy had been kicked to death. Just what was happening here? It appeared to be a moment much too intimate for the school halls and yet Quinn barely gave him the time of day under usual circumstances.

Was this about the fight he'd had with Finn the day before? She'd heard about it the same way everyone else had but Finn had also mentioned on their job hunting mission what a 'jackass' Puck was and how he didn't understand anything Finn was really going through. Rachel had agreed wholeheartedly at the time because while she knew details of the situation that Finn didn't - like the fact that Noah had strong feelings for Quinn too - that didn't give the delinquent the right to act out his jealousy through his fists. You didn't see her going over there and punching _him_ on the nose for looking at Quinn with those devastatingly dreamy eyes. Honestly, it was a wonder little love hearts didn't start oozing from their pores with how cosy they looked together.

And then, enter her knight in shining armour, stage left. Finn rolled up to speak to them, but he didn't catch what Rachel did: Noah hurriedly pushing the wad of cash down the front of his jeans – she had to remember not to touch any of the bake sale money! After less than a minute Quinn took a seat on his lap and together they rolled away into the sunset – or to fourth period at any rate.

Noah was left frowning after them and Rachel actually made him jump when she stormed up and shoved a finger in his chest.

He irritably pushed her hand away. "What do you want?"

"I want answers, Noah Puckerman."

"It's none of your business, Berry," he said gruffly, turning to leave.

"Oh. And is it none of Mr. Schuester's business either? Or Principal Figgins?" She had to really work her legs to keep up with him. "Or is it police business perhaps?"

That got his attention and he swung back around to face her. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"The cupcakes, Noah!"

He looked like he didn't understand for a moment, too caught up in other thoughts, and then he smiled. "Oh, them. Yeah, we made a killing today. Sold nearly a hundred of them. Woulda sold more if we hadn't run out. I say we put the price up now everyone knows how good Nana Connie's recipe is. What do you think? Five dollars too much?"

She levelled him with a no nonsense glare, "And what exactly is _in_ Nana Connie's recipe, Noah?"

"I don't know, eggs and butter and shit?"

"And?"

He laughed at her, "I don't know what you're talking about. I've got to get to class."

Okay, now she definitely knew something was amiss.

She waited until his back was turned before suggesting, "I'd leave the first purchase at a dollar; every good drug dealer knows the importance of hooking new clientele with low prices. And then you can raise it as much as you want once you have them hooked."

And again she had his undivided attention. He was on her in a second, forcing her back against a locker with his sheer presence as he made a shushing gesture with a finger against his lips.

"Keep your mouth down. What do you know?"

"Only what I witnessed in the cafeteria yesterday and what your reaction just told me." She stared up at him defiantly, and perhaps a little smugly. "An unnecessary reaction might I add, seeing as we are completely alone."

He looked around to verify that and relaxed. "It's just a little pot to help sales. There's hardly even any in them, so don't go getting your panties in a twist about health risks and shit, okay?"

She nodded, having assumed as such. She'd heard of a few students getting detention for dozing off in class, but not of any fatalities.

"You know its not only illegal, it's immoral."

"How moral is it that Figgins won't cough up for us all to ride the special bus to Sectionals?"

They were hardly the same thing, but she wasn't really that bothered if the students of McKinley got high on Puckerman's dime, as long as he was being truthful about the amount he was putting in. It was probably a little petty to hope that Kassie ate so many of them that she became fat overnight but Rachel had to admit that yesterday afternoon had been wonderful for her – not a single confrontation in the halls, no name calling or 'accidental' trips. Everyone had been too busy sucking on their slushies to re-hydrated their mouths to waste any on her. Santana had even held the door open for her as they left sixth period – or perhaps she'd just been trying to nap against it!

Either way, the boy could sell his spiked cupcakes every day of the year as far as she was concerned, but she didn't intend to inform him of that and lose whatever leverage it might offer.

"I'm not sure I can condone such behavior, Noah."

"It's just one more day, and we're making the money we need, Berry, so what's the big deal. Besides, I already made, like, three hundred cupcakes last night so we wouldn't run out again. I ain't letting all that hard work go to waste."

He looked proud of himself and, actually, Rachel was too. After her first batch of cookie dough had ended up over Quinn, well mostly over her really, she hadn't attempted to make any more. And yet Noah had made _four hundred_ give or take in a seventy-two hour period. It was extremely industrious of him, and strange, because she hadn't realized he and Artie were so close. They certainly didn't act like they were.

But then neither did she and Quinn.

How many clandestine friendships were there in Glee Club?

"What are you smirking about?"

"Oh, nothing. So, Noah, I'm sure you are perfectly aware of my new hobby that is centered around my love of. . . blackmail?"

Now he was smirking, "Yeah, you got Quinn to touch your tits by saying you'd tell everyone she was pregnant." Rachel's eyes bugged because she definitely hadn't started _that_ rumor. "Which kind of makes you a totally hot, stone-cold bitch, and I'm down with that."

"Um, ayway, if you don't tell me what you and Quinn were talking about just before, I'll go to Principal Figgins with Nana Connie's secret recipe."

His cockiness left him in an instant but she didn't think it was because of her threat. "We were just talking about the bake sale. Whether or not we should have two tables next time so we don't get so swamped."

"I don't believe you."

He shrugged. "It's the truth; don't really care if you believe me or not. Now, you may not be aware of this, but I can do blackmail too. You breathe a word about what's in my cupcakes and I'll tell Quinn I saw a bunch of naked photos of her when I was in your room last week."

"How would I even have naked photos of Quinn?"

"Yeah, she _might_ bother to ask that before she kicks your ass."

It was a ridiculous accusation because Quinn had been in her bedroom more times than him and had already found all of her little secrets – the yearbook photos, the pro and con list – but she knew she had to look worried in front of him, to keep up the act.

"But . . . but . . . why would she believe you?"

"You're public enemy number one on Quinn's shit list right now, Rachel," he actually sounded a little sympathetic. If she and Quinn had still been together it would have made her laugh, but they weren't and so she appreciated his sympathy, even if it was based on lies. "She's just looking for an excuse to make you pay."

"Fine, I'll keep your secret, for now, but I know you and Quinn weren't talking about the bake sale and when I find out the truth about _that_ the blackmail will once again be on the other foot, Noah Puckerman."

"Whatever. You're just jealous 'cause Quinn talks to me and don't wanna speak to you." He grinned, "Hey, no hard feelings. I'll give you a cupcake on the house at lunch, make you feel better."

"I don't need narcotics to feel better, but thank you for the offer."

* * *

Rachel didn't make it to the cafeteria for lunch because Mrs. Wyde asked for her help in organising a Senior Debate. It was interesting, the subject being Animal Rights versus Conservation in America's zoos, and she was getting so involved with it she forgot to press the buzzer a few times, but when her cell phone beeped with a text from Finn she politely excused herself. Glee Club came first after all.

She met with the others in the auditorium and clapped (while wrinkling her nose) as Noah handed over an even larger wad of cash to Artie.

They had made enough for the specially equipped bus and then some and everyone was in great spirits, even though Artie said he'd rather give the money to the school, which really hadn't been the point of all of that effort but whatever.

They were dispersing for afternoon classes when Noah suggested, "One more sale, after school. We've still got, like, sixty cupcakes left, might as well make some more cash. We can use it for, I don't know, costumes or something."

Nobody disagreed; Mr. Schue even clapped him on the back for his motivation.

Rachel just rolled her eyes, the 'costume money' would probably end up in his own pocket to cover his expenses, but either way she was going to be at this one. She wanted to get at least one Glee bonding experience out of this.

* * *

Quinn didn't know why they were still selling these. They had the money they needed and should probably just give the leftovers to charity or something, but here she was, once again sitting between Puck and Finn – more awkward than ever since their fight – selling yet more of the darn cakes.

Just like at lunch they'd pulled two tables together so it wasn't so overwhelming when the kids started swarming and now Brittany, Mike, Matt and _R_ _achel_ had joined them to help.

Although Rachel wasn't actually helping because Santana had told her no one would buy from a troll, but she was still hanging around just to the side of Mike's chair on the end. She'd taken it upon herself to hand out napkins to the buyers and looked so excited to be joining in that Quinn didn't have the heart to tell her to scram.

Providing she didn't start licking anything inappropriately she wasn't doing any harm.

To use a tired cliché they were selling cupcakes like hot cakes, even though school was out for the weekend and the Titan's were playing an away game that night. People were hanging around just to buy them. Were they really that good? She hadn't tried one yet, because they were supposed to be _selling_ them, but as the rush finally ebbed and there were still, like, twenty cakes left . . .

She picked one up and studied it. It didn't look any different to the ones she'd made, which hadn't sold at all! She licked some of the red frosting from the top, smiling at the sweetness as she sucked it off of her tongue and crunched some of the sprinkles between her teeth – it had been so long since she'd let herself enjoy a cupcake. Pregnancy was awesome!

She was just about to bite into it and see what all the fuss was about when . . . it was gone.

"Hey, what the hell? Berry, get your hands off of my cupcake!"

"I bet that's the first time she's ever said that."

"Oh, Mike; snap!" Santana laughed, leaning down the table with her hand up. Grinning, he gave it a perfunctionary slap.

It was hard to act cocky when he knew things about her that nobody else did, but it wasn't hard at all to pick up another of the cupcakes and throw it right at his stupid, grinning face.

As crumbs flew everywhere on impact, Rachel reprimanded her, "That wasn't very nice, Quinn." A second cupcake bounced off of Rachel's head. "For Heaven's sake."

"You're paying for those," Puck said beside her.

And whatever. It had been worth it to see the looks on their faces, Rachel's especially. That girl could do startled like no one else. She took two dollars out of her purse and shoved them into the tin and then pushed a third in on top, because she actually really wanted a cupcake now. She'd had a meaningless salad at lunch and the frosting just now had gone to her head.

She picked the plumpest looking cake out of what was left and eyed it lovingly for a moment before opening her mouth to take a bite and . . .

What the freaking hell! "Berry!"

"I thought you bought it for me."

"Why would I buy anything for you?"

Rachel thought fast. "Wishful thinking?"

What game was she playing here? She would understand it more if she thought it was Rachel's way of trying to get back with her, because she wanted to do things daily to win Rachel back, but how was stealing her cupcakes likely to achieve that?

"Yeah, well you can wishful think all you want. Give me back my cake."

"No."

"What do you mean no? Give it. You're not even eating it!"

"Yes I am," she insisted, even though she was looking at the cupcake like it was more likely about to take a bite out of her.

"No you're not!"

"I am!" Why was she glaring at Puck all of sudden?

"You're not!" Leaning across she made a snatch for it.

"I amph!" Rachel said, her voice muffled by a large bite of fluffy sponge cake. "Phsee?"

"Fine, whatever." Shaking her head, Quinn stuck _another_ dollar in the tin and picked up a different one.

She almost had it to her mouth when Puck slapped it out of her hand.

"There was a fly on it," was his explanation as he picked it from the table and threw it in the trash can behind them.

She hadn't seen a fly!

"Guys, football meet, right now," Coach Tanaka slapped a hand on the table as he ambled by. "You can get back to your fairy cakes tomorrow."

Finn kissed her cheek as he stood up and left with Puck, Mike and Matt. She didn't _miss_ the look Puck gave Rachel as he stood up from the table, she just didn't understand it.

Rachel had finished her stolen cupcake now and was brushing the crumbs from her lips with a napkin. Quinn did the only sensible thing and ignored her, choosing another for herself.

It was going to be so worth the wait. So moist and . . ."

"What the . . .? I will freaking _end_ you!"

"Why?" Rachel asked innocently around a mouthful of the new cupcake she'd just swiped from her hands.

* * *

That hadn't been the best idea because . . . because . . . because . . . what had she been, um, doing. That thing with your brain you do, about? She couldn't remember, but the chairs needed to _stop_ dancing around. They weren't even in time! It was one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-trees . . . trees . . . trees? It didn't make even any sense. Rachel shook her head, trying to clear it. How did she get in the . . . the room, with the chairs, not trees, and people, her people, her Quinn people.

Quinn!

She was right there and the only solid point in the fuzz. If she could just get to Quinn everything would be okay.

But she was, like, so far away!

Rachel looked at the floor between them, all one thousand miles of it, and despaired.

"Quinn!" she yelled across the abyss.

Quinn winced, "Keep you voice down!"

Wow, the acoustics really were very good in the Choir room, it sounded like Quinn was right in front of her.

"Sorry!" she whispered, really loudly, hoping that would carry over the gulf between them too.

Quinn must have heard because she sort of smiled and then turned to the door as Santana and Brittany came through. Wow, the door was really big. How did it get that big? Rachel dropped to her knees because that door was just too big to handle on her feet. What if it crushed her?

"She okay yet?" Santana asked, laughing as she came closer, and that was too big too, so Rachel ducked down even further.

"No!" Ah, Quinn's voice. At its most stringent it was still so comforting. "What the hell is wrong with her?"

"She's stoned, Q. Puck put pot in those cupcakes."

"They're awesome. They make Santana really friendly."

Oh, hey Brittany; Rachel tried to wave but her hand just sort of dangled in front of her instead. She really needed to lay down.

"He put _what_ in them? For crying out loud!" Yay, Quinn was looking at her. "RuPaul, are you okay?"

"Don't call me that. I don't have a thing."

"That's what you say."

Rachel glared into Quinn's eyes for hours without a response before she realized she was staring down a couple of buttons on her dress instead. Jerking her eyes up she met Brittany's – concerned – Santana's – laughing – and then Quinn's eyes – indifferent.

"I'm . . . sorry?" The gigantic door opened again before anyone could absolve her and Noah came in. "Is it just me or does he have the most perfect _Brazilian_ on his head?"

She jumped when Santana slapped an empty chair as she doubled over laughing.

"I don't get it," Brittany said.

Quinn was probably rolling her eyes, "It's a pubic hair joke, Britt. Berry's kind of obsessed with it, but it's so not funny."

Rachel thought it was, so when Santana just laughed harder she joined in.

"Everything okay in here, ladies?"

"You!" She pointed at him. Everyone looked at her and she had no follow up. "I want another cupcake!"

She was mostly ignored, but Brittany did dig into her bag and produce a squashed Twinkie. Rachel grabbed it eagerly and ripped it open as the conversation went on around her.

"You got her stoned, you asshole!" Quinn was so sexy when she was mad.

"No, I didn't! Berry knew what was in them. She got herself stoned!" Noah – no Puck – no _Noah_ was so sexy when he was right.

"So Berry knew what was in them but ate a bunch anyway? Why?" Santana was so sexy when she was confused.

"Obviously because she didn't want Quinn to eat them. She was protecting the baby from getting high." Brittany was so sexy when she was just . . . Brittany.

"Hey, remove your troll paws or I will personally cut them off!"

"Huh?"

Oh, oops. She snatched her hands from where they were resting on Brittany's knees and looked around for Quinn again. Quinn made everything better. She caught Puckerno's eye first.

"I have not said a word," she promised solemnly and waved an arm around to prove her point. "But if you don't believe me . . . I'm . . . I can think of worse things."

Noahman smirked at her and turned to Quinn . . . and here it came, utter humiliation, that wasn't true and Quinn would know that but Santana and Brittany wouldn't and Rachel just really wanted to know how Quinn would react to the accusation in front of them.

"She's fucked."

"I know. You're an asshole!"

"I ain't, she knew what was in them! Why did she eat so many anyway?"

"She was trying to stop me from eating any. Every time I picked one up, she snatched it away."

"How many did you pick up?!"

"Well, after the first four it kind of got funny; I wanted to see how many she'd eat. I didn't know they had stuff in them!"

She'd listened to the conversation like it was coming through a long tube but now Noah-Puck was right in front of her, gripping her arms in his large hands.

"How many cupcakes did you eat, Berry?"

"Uh." Her eyes rolled from his to Quinn and then the other way to Santana and Brittany, until he shook her lightly. "Seven. I think. I think, Seven. Is that bad?"

"Shit!"

"Is that too many? Am I going to die? I can't die? You know Broadway needs me! And my Dads will be so disappointed. And," she put a hand over her face to hold back a sob, "I have a Biology test Monday! I've already studied for it! I can't die!"

"You're not going to fucking die, you idiot."

"How do you know?" she shouted at Santana. Yeah, shouted, so she was must have been high.

"Rachel, you're fine," Noah said in his most soothing tone.

She slapped both hands against his chest so hard that he actually stumbled back. "Leave me alone!"

She squatted there, hunched in on herself, trembling slightly, just wanting everyone to go away.

Brittany broke the long silence and all she said was, "Q?"

"Yeah, okay. Puck, how long until this wears off?"

"I don't know. A couple of cupcakes, I'd say an hour, but seven?"

"We should take her home," Santana said, and it was probably the nicest thing she'd ever said about her.

"We can't take her home like this," Quinn said, and Rachel nodded, with effort. She'd rather be left here than have her dads see her like this.

"I'd take her back to mine but my uncle is staying and he's more of a sleaze than me," Noah (possibly) said with a chuckle.

"She's not coming back to mine. I already get an allergic reaction anytime I'm near her; I don't want that transferring to my house."

Rachel figured she'd be offended if the floor wasn't looking so comfortable. She happily sank back down to it.

"She can come to . . ." Brittany began.

Quinn spoke quickly over her. "Fine, we'll take her to mine. My parents are visiting my sister over night so they won't be there."

"Okay. Problem solved, " said Santana. "You two have fun."

"No way! I'm not looking after her alone! You two have to come over too."

"Yay, sleepover!" That was Brittany.

"Why? She's not our problem." That was Santana.

"She's not mine either, but, come on, help me out here. Worst case scenario we have a girls night with Stubbles snoring in the background."

There was a long silence. A looong silence. Long enough for Rachel to discover there was no comfortable position on the choir room floor. So she sat up again.

"So are we going back to Quinn's or should I take my chances with Puckanoah and his sleazy uncle?"

"I know what gets my vote," the boy laughed.

"It's up to Santana and Brittany," Quinn said, not looking at her. "I don't trust you coming back to mine without Santana as a chaperone."

Maybe she was telling the truth, maybe it was all part of the act; either way it got Santana on board.

"Okay, fine. I'll stay over if Britt wants to."

"I do!"

"Alright, up you get, Stubbles."

Rachel looked up. "Where are we going?"

"The ninth circle of hell, you coming with us or not?"

She didn't have much choice in the matter when Santana dragged her up by the back of her sweater. Noah's phone rang while she was still trying to orientate her feet and he covered the mouthpiece to say to Quinn,

"It's Finn. He's on his way here."

"He can't . . ."

"Well, he is."

Why was Quinn so worried about Finn coming to join them? He was her boyfriend, she loved him, they were having babies together . . . "Finn sucks!"

Santana was laughing at her. "What was that, Berry?"

"Finn already thinks Berry likes me."

"She does," Brittany said.

"I do," Rachel agreed, making Santana laugh again.

Quinn rolled her eyes at all of them and focused on Noah again. "He's going to get the wrong idea if he finds out I'm taking her back to mine!"

Rachel saw him nod and then he uncovered the mouth piece. "Yeah, we're in the Choir room. See you in a minute." He was reeling off instructions before he'd even slipped his phone into his pocket. "Santana, don't be an ass about this and I'll take you to Breadstix next week for the _All You Can Eat Buffet._ You two get Berry out of sight. Quinn, just be cool."

"Waghhhh!" Was the sound Rachel made as she was grabbed by both arms and dragged backwards until she was completely out of sight behind the band equipment.

"Please don't hurt me!"

"Shut up!"

She did, except for her heart beat. Was it always this loud? She didn't know how to make it quiet enough so that Finn wouldn't hear it and her anxiety over that made her "Eek!" when he entered the room. Santana slapped a hand over her mouth just in time; it hurt but Rachel made a mental note to send her fruit basket later.

"Hey, the game was cancelled tonight and so as you obviously don't have Cheerios, I was thinking we could do something together. A date. To celebrate me getting a job. What do you think?"

"I can't. I have plans. With Santana and Brittany. " Quinn was as cool as a cucumber.

Mmm, cucumber.

"I'm hungry," she whispered.

"Shhh," Santana hissed, poking her in the side.

"Okay, well what about after that?" She could hear Finn's hopeful grin. "It is Friday night after all."

"We're having a sleepover, Finn. That means all night."

"Oh. Yeah, okay."

"We can do something tomorrow though."

Rachel didn't want to hear that and so she distracted herself.

"Hey, where are you going?" Santana hissed under her breath, catching her arm so that she couldn't crawl too far.

"I just want to . . ." She wriggled around until she could see what was going on between the big round base drum and one of the little hanging Tom's. Why were they called Tom's? It seemed rather informal. Did the caveman who invented the drum kit run out of professional sounding names? ' _I'll call you the the cymbal, I'll call you the hi-hat, I'll call you the snare drum and I'll call you, um, Tom.'_ At least the bass drum's name made sense because when you tapped it it made a big booming noise but when you tapped the Tom it didn't make a sound like tom, see, it just . . .

Oops, she hadn't meant to hit Tom out loud and now Finn was turning around to see what had caused the noise.

"Hide and seek, go!"

The whisper made no sense to her but Brittany suddenly popped to her feet, startling Rachel so bad she nearly fell _into_ the drum kit.

"You're not supposed to just stand there talking? Haven't you even played Hide and Seek before? It's no fun hiding if you don't even make the effort to look for me."

"I . . . didn't even know we were playing," Finn sounded both confused and apologetic but more to the point he was good and distracted.

At least she thought he was. It was hard to tell when his face was all the way up there. No wonder they made the doors so big, it was so _he_ could get through them.

"Oh my God," she murmured, because it all made sense now; something did, anyway. "He's so tall. Has he always been that tall?"

Santana rolled her eyes as she murmured, "Well, I agree that his Mom must have had magic beans to grow something that damn big, but with you being a dwarf it's no wonder he looks like a skyscraper to you."

It was like Artie and his ramps; the school _had_ to build new doors to accommodate Finn's vertical disability. Glee could have another bake sale to pay for them! She was so hungry, that Twinkie had been _hours_ ago.

She had an idea, thought it through once for any probable problems, found none and got quietly to her hands and knees.

"Keep watch. I'm going to climb up him and steal some golden eggs," she whispered below the level of Brittany explaining the rules of Hide and Seek to Finn in great detail. "I know I don't normally eat animal products, being an aspiring vegan and all, but I think you must agree that any goose that can lay gold eggs must already have an extremely good standard of living and I'm not entirely sure how eggs made of a precious metal could be fertilized anyway . . . and besides, I believe I am currently experiencing the _munchies_ and I would move Heaven and Earth to get my hands on some food right now, so scaling that giant Finnstalk will be a piece of cake." She groaned at the very idea of it, "Mmm, cake, lots of delicious, fluffy, creamy cake."

Santana was too busy trying to keep her helpless laughter silent to think about stopping her and Brittany was still too busy with her first distraction to offer a second and so it was left to Rachel herself to hold a finger to her lips when Quinn's eyes went wide at seeing her crawling furtively around the drum kit to make her way to the back of Finn's legs.

She was right behind him, if he stepped back he'd fall over her, and Quinn was pulling adorable faces at her while trying to encourage Finn out of the room but he was still caught up in conversation with Brittany.

Now, would his back pocket be the best place to get a decent grip or would his belt be sturdier? She didn't want to risk falling. When she got to his shoulders it would be a very long way back to earth.

And then a lot of things happened too fast for her to follow.

Something grabbed her ankles, tipping her onto her hands and making her squeal and Pucker Noahman shouted "Hey!" for no reason and Brittany slapped Finn on the side of the head and shouted, "Tag, your it!" which made no sense because weren't they playing Hide and Seek? And Quinn _jumped_ into his arms and _kissed_ him and all the while Rachel was being forced to run backwards on her hands as some _monster_ , or possibly an irate golden goose, was dragging her back behind the drum kit.

It was all just too much and Rachel was actually quite happy when the Choir room floor turned all swirly and then everything went black.


	20. Chapter 20

Apologies for the delay between updates. I had a lot going on and then it was Nanowrimo time.

 **Chapter Twenty: Blame It On The Bubbles**

Home Sweet Home.

She'd checked to make sure her parents had left on time before escorting Rachel from the car. It wouldn't do to walk through the front door with Rachel Berry if her Dad was still inside. Even if she could get away with saying it was for a Glee project – which she couldn't because he wouldn't care – the fact that Rachel was still _stoned_ beyond belief would have caused her a world of trouble.

But the coast was clear and now they were standing in the foyer and it was _awkward_.

Awkward because she was caught between wanting Rachel to feel comfortable here and being the good hostess her Mom had taught her to be – as in polite, formal, welcoming and completely detached. Her mom was a master at taking coats, offering drinks and courteously enquiring after her guests lives without ever relaxing into the situation.

Well, she had the last one down perfectly and she took Rachel's coat, but she couldn't be detached around her, not any more.

It was also awkward because Rachel wouldn't be _de_ tachedfrom her. After removing her coat – a task that lasted several minutes due to Rachel's fascination with the 'beautiful complexity' of the hook and eye fastenings – she kind of sank into Quinn's side with one arm going around her waist as her head snuggled against her shoulder.

"Still feeling woozy?"

"Yes, although I am happy to say that the triple vision I was experiencing in the Choir room has reduced and I'm finding the double vision much less disorientating, but mostly I'm just feeling cuddly. That's not a problem is it?

"The doorbell's going to ring any minute."

"I'll let go when it does."

"Rachel, I have to stay in character," she said, hoping that phrasing it that way would get through to Rachel better and be kinder than pushing her away.

Rachel giggled, "And what is your character?"

"The unwilling host. I don't want you here, remember? I'm just feeling guilty because you ate all of those cupcakes because of me and there was nowhere else for you to go." Heavy-lidded brown eyes looked up at her and it was all she could do not to try and kiss that little pout away. "Thank you, by the way. Although it would have been much more sensible if you'd just told me what was in them instead of eating them all yourself."

"I couldn't; Noah was blackmailing me.."

"He was? How?" she demanded; and just when she'd been thinking kindly of him for helping to distract Finn.

"He threatened to tell."

"Tell what, Rachel?" Any kindly thoughts had now been blown entirely away by explosive, murderous ones. "If that shithead even dares . . ." Her anger shifted abruptly into confusion when the other girl started giggling. "It's not funny! He could ruin me if he starts telling other people about . . ."

"No, no, not other people," Rachel chortled, "although that would be embarrassing enough! He was going to tell you. . ."

Okay, now she was completely lost, because she already knew about them.

". . . about all of the naked photos I have of you in my bedroom. That's why I couldn't tell anyone what was in the cakes, _see_?"

Quinn eyed her with just a smidge of suspicion for a heartbeat or two, but that was all it took for her to be sure that there wasn't even a pinch of truth in Puck's accusation. Even allowing for her being stoned there was no way she would find it this hilarious if it was for real. Actually it would probably have the reverse effect of making Rachel paranoid and shifty.

"You know I wouldn't have believed him."

The pout came back, but trembling now from the laughter held behind it.. "You're not the only one who has to stay in character, Quinn."

It made it easier to do what she had to do next. "I appreciate that, I do, but we can't cuddle any more, Rachel, so stand up straight."

The doorbell trilled right above them and Quinn jumped, but Rachel jumped more. Letting out a little yelp, suddenly she was clinging to her harder than ever and she had the uncontrollable giggles again.

"Sorry." Rachel side-stepped away without needing to be told to and then fell back against the wall. It was hard to tell if she lost her balance because she was laughing so hard, or if she was laughing so hard _because_ she lost her balance. "Okay, hang on a second, let me get my show face on." Her expression straightened for perhaps five seconds before it collapsed all over again. "M-maybe you should just get the door, this-this might take a while."

Rolling her eyes, Quinn did just that.

Santana pushed in without waiting for an invite, gave the giggling mass of Berry a look up and down and then rolled her own eyes. "Still a mess, I see. This should be fun."

Brittany came in next, grinning from ear to ear as she eyed Rachel. "I think its going to be super fun."

Mercedes and Tina followed her in, both looking a little wary to be there.

It had been decided by unanimous vote that this should be made a real Glee Girls sleepover. Santana figured that Rachel would be easier to take if she was watered down by the other geeks, Brittany had pointed out that as none of them really wanted to deal with a totally stoned Rachel having the other two girls there would spread the responsibility around and Quinn had agreed because . . . why not?

Rachel had also voted yay on the grounds that after witnessing Brittany slap Finn and having Santana drag her halfway across the room by her ankles she'd become convinced that the two Cheerios were luring her to Quinn's home to murder her. Or at the very least humiliate her and film it for YouTube.

Mercedes, she was sure, had only agreed for the chance to get a look at the inside of her house, but Tina seemed genuinely happy for the invite and held up a litre bottle of Fanta as she came in.

"I brought cookies too," she said with no trace of a stutter, causing Quinn to frown. "Is that not okay?"

She shook the frown away. "No, that's . . . very nice of you. We only just arrived too," she said, because it was the best way of explaining why she was still holding Rachel's coat. "Let's, um, you're jackets."

"Are you stoned too now, Q?" Santana smirked as she shed her Cheerios letterman. "Lets see, is that because you ate a cupcake, or did you just eat Stubbles while you were waiting for us?"

"Funny. You can put your own coat in the closet. I'm sure you'll find your way around; it is a _closet_ after all."

Santana glared in that deadly way only she could for a moment before shrugging it off and taking Brittany's coat to hang up with her own. "We brought some wine coolers too, you know, for those of us who can't handle that hard Fanta stuff."

Tina blushed and looked at her feet and Quinn touched her shoulder sympathetically as she took her jacket. "For those of us who _can't_ drink right now, Fanta is perfect."

Even if it would give her major heartburn later.

"I brought Cheetos," Mercedes said, and then glared at Santana, "But somebody also promised me pizza."

Santana glared back, "You just walked in the door. Can we at least sit down before you feel the need to stuff your pudgy face?"

"No, Mercedes is right. I need Pizza, and Cheetos," Rachel said with such a determined look on her face it was hard for Quinn not to laugh. "And did somebody mention cookies?"

Oh yeah, tonight was going to be great fun.

The coats had all been put away, the snacks had been poured into bowls and everyone had their drink of choice – except Rachel, who had chosen a wine cooler, which Quinn had vetoed, and so had a glass of water instead – when Santana shucked off her Cheerios shirt in the middle of the kitchen.

Everyone's eyes bugged – except Brittany's, because she was used to it – until they saw that she was wearing a bikini top underneath.

"Fire up the hot tub, Q. I didn't agree to babysit you two out of the goodness of my heart."

"Isn't it a little cold for that?" Tina asked, with still no stutter. Quinn knew she'd been on a date with Artie earlier or yesterday or some time, but surely he wasn't _that_ good.

"It's called a hot tub for a reason," Santana snarked.

"Yeah, Quinn's hot tub is totally awesome," Brittany grinned. "Do you guys remember last New Years Eve?"

Quinn did, too well. Her parent's had been at the Church Social and they'd had the house to themselves. They'd all had a little too much to drink, not to the point of being stupid, but inhibitions had certainly been lowered and she'd witnessed her two best friends doing something she'd never ever wanted to see. It had shocked her at the time, but now the thought of watching two girls kiss wasn't nearly so scandalous and . . . oops, she was looking at Berry in a way she really, really shouldn't be.

She dragged her eyes away. "Uh, yeah, I guess I can turn it on, but what are the rest of us going to do?"

"Santana told us to come prepared," Mercedes grinned, pulling her top down over her shoulder to show a pink swimming costume strap underneath.

"Oh."

Rachel suddenly dropped her palms to the table top. "Quinn can't go in the hot tub!"

"Why not?" she asked, the idea automatically growing on her when it looked like she couldn't.

"Because raising your core body temperature that high can be harmful to the baby."

"I _hate_ being pregnant!"

"But it makes you glow!"

"Cork it, Berry!"

Santana laughed at them and then pushed her Cheerios skirt over her hips before heading through to the door of the deck. "I'm gonna go turn it on."

Brittany followed with a: "Come on, guys!"

"I'll sit out with you, Quinn," Rachel offered. "I don't have a suit and its probably dangerous to go swimming when I can't feel my toes."

"It's a hot tub, why would you be swimming?"

"That's a very good question, Mercedes," Rachel conceded, but apparently didn't have an answer. "I probably shouldn't get in a hot tub on a full stomach though," she added, shoving a full handful of Cheetos into her mouth and Quinn realized what she was up to; trying to organise it so that everyone would be in the hot tub – except for them. She was angling for alone time.

"I have a bikini you can wear," she blurted. "It's wasn't made for munchkins but it should just about fit you."

Rachel looked dubious before brightening, "Should I come upstairs and try it on?"

"No!" She cleared the squeak out of her throat and tried again. "I mean, no, I'll bring it down, you can try it on in the downstairs bathroom."

She left the room, but still heard Tina say, "Rachel, you really shouldn't come on so strong. Quinn's trying to be nice and you're making her really uncomfortable."

She grinned as she went up the stairs; her acting was flawless.

Twenty minutes later, not so much.

Everybody else was submerged to their shoulders and having a great time soaking in the bubbles, but apparently the pot in Rachel's system was disagreeing with the hot water. She kept sinking down to the same level as everyone else only to burst up with a splash a few minutes later, making waves, sweating and waving a hand in front of her face to cool down.

It wouldn't have been a problem – and certainly no one else was paying much attention to her theatrics – but sitting on the side with just her feet submerged, because they ached and so did her ankles and pregnancy still sucked, Quinn was getting treated to Rachel in her own red bikini top that was just a _tiny_ bit too small on the other girl. Combined with trickling water droplets and the rolling and surging of the breasts under _her_ bikini, Quinn was having a problem.

It was getting really hard to hide the fact that she wanted to stare.

She tried to distract herself with conversations, but they all went a little something like . . .

"So, San, how's Head Cheerio working out for you?"

"It's not! Because I'm not. Not yet anyway. Your willingness to star in The Desperate Teen Mom's Of Lima has her scared. She won't choose another captain until she's had a retro-active chastity clause put into all of our contracts. You've really screwed me here, Q! Do you have any idea how hard it's going to be for me to . . ."

Rachel pops out of the water.

"That's . . . great! You, uh, deserve a new contract . . . definitely . . . awesome."

Or . . .

"Hey, Britt, how's Lord Tubbington's diet going?"

"Don't get me started! He keeps swearing to me he's staying off dairy but then I find cheese crumbs on his whiskers! How am I supposed to trust him? Do you think I should enrol him in fat camp?"

Rachel pops out of the water.

"Cheese camp for cats? That's Lord Tubbington's Disneyland! You should totally go for it."

Or . . .

"Mercedes, have you seen the new Baker Angelo catalogue? Seriously, you are going to die in the best way when you see their winter collection."

"Hell, yeah! I already ordered a bunch of stuff. Did you see those jackets . . .

Rachel popped out of the water again and Quinn didn't even bother with a follow up comment this time. She was dumbstruck – although Rachel would probably prefer the term starstruck – whatever she was, it included being mesmerised.

She _had_ to stop looking at Rachel's breasts before anyone noticed, especially before Rachel noticed because she was supposed to be over _that_. She so wasn't over that. They were perfect. Encased in clinging red and heaving a little from apparent heat exhaustion. Quinn could stare at them all night. The abrupt shift from hot water to the cold night air was making her nipples peak, raising delectable dents in the bikini top and giving Quinn so many thoughts she shouldn't be having, like running her thumbs over them – or her tongue. That would be new. That would be _good_. That would . . .

Rachel met her eyes at entirely the wrong moment, bringing home how real it could be if she only allowed it to happen.

Flustered, Quinn kicked her legs under the water. "Ouch."

"Sorry!" She apologised to Tina's elbow and drew her legs from the hot tub to stand up.

"I'm going to order some pizzas. Keep an eye on Berry for me, please? I don't want her suddenly drowning or wandering off."

She'd cooled down by the time she had called Angelo's for a variety of pizzas and accompanying side dishes

Now she was listening to them laugh and splash about through the open doors to the deck, and it was nice hearing them all getting along, but she had no interest in going back out there herself. There was no way she could see Rachel in that bikini again and not do or at least say something stupid.

She took a stack of plates and a packet of paper napkins through to the family room, assuming everyone would want to eat in front of the television. Back in the kitchen she set about getting fresh drinks for everyone, rolling her eyes and grinning at the conversation she could hear coming from the hot tub. At least everyone . . .

"Psst!"

She didn't freeze at the unexpected noise but she did stop moving, because the perpetrator of that odd little sound was supposed to be outside with the others.

"Psst!"

"I heard you the first time," she said quietly. "Where are you?"

"Turn around."

She did so. The pantry door was cracked open just enough to let a big, brown eye peek though.

"You better not be dripping all over the place in there."

"I can't promise that." The door opened a little wider and a hand beckoned her in.

"No." Quinn turned back to what she was doing.

"Psst!"

"What are you even doing in the pantry?"

"I was looking for something delicious to eat. Come help me."

Her eyebrows rose, but she decided Rachel probably wasn't making a deliberate innuendo. "I don't think so."

"Quinn, stop being so difficult. I have a secret to tell you."

"What secret?"

The eye rolled, "Come here and I'll tell you."

With a deeply exasperated sigh, Quinn walked over and Rachel pulled the door open wider. Quinn stepped inside, but only just, and hooked the door with her ankle so that it couldn't close all the way behind her.

"So what's the secret?"

Rachel curled that finger again, encouraging her to lean down and Quinn complied because she was curious. Secrets were currency after all and what if she'd missed an important piece of gossip in the hot tub while she'd been trying not to gawp at Rachel.

"Hi."

"Hello," she replied as cool as she could when Rachel was whispering directly into her ear; instantly reigniting the desire she had been feeling at the hot tub's edge.

"I saw you looking at me earlier."

"You were jumping around in the water like a homesick salmon; it was hard not to look."

"Nobody else looked like they were enjoying it quite so much though," the words were punctuated by a soft kiss to her earlobe.

"So is that the secret? Going to try your hand at blackmail for real?"

"No, that's not the secret," Rachel purred languidly with warm lips against her earlobe.

"Gnome, don't. Just tell me the secret."

"This is the secret."

Her hand clutched at Rachel bare back, smooth, warm and still damp, when that damned tongue flicked around the shell of her ear.

No! She couldn't let her do this, nothing turned her brain to jello like _this_! If she didn't stop her from – _Oh_ – doing _that_ right now she was going to forget why she was supposed to stop her in the first place. Her hand was moving up and down Rachel's back already, smearing water droplets over the firm muscles and reminding her that the girl kissing and licking her ear was still very much in a bikini. Which sort of explained why she had her eyes closed, but made the closed eyes seem pretty wasteful.

Waste was a sin, right? Was it worse than lust, though?

"Do you want to hear more?" Those softly drawled words proved beyond all reasonable doubt that Quinn somehow had a direct connection from her ear all the way down to her no go area and it decided the answer for her.

The sound of four voices in a heated but affable discussion could still be heard from the deck as Quinn unhooked her ankle from the door and let it slowly swing shut. "Yes."

How her voice sounded so calm when inside she was a firework waiting to go off she didn't know. All of those elocution lessons in elementary school perhaps. It didn't matter when Rachel was pulling her deeper into the pantry and up against the shelves, as she slipped one arm around Quinn's neck to gain leverage and continued to give her ear the kind of toe-tingling attention that she'd never even had the guts to dream of before.

 _Oh God,_ her knees were going to buckle under the weight of all this pleasure if she didn't stop it soon. "Rach . . . Rach . . . _Rachel_!"

"What?"

"Oh fuck, say that again!"

She received a chuckle instead – which was even better. Both of her hands were kneading Rachel's back now, squeezing the firm flesh under her fingers because she had to hold on to something. That was new too, previously uncharted bare skin – the thought made her eyes pop open. The way her head was angled gave her a view straight down Rachel's body, her bikini-clad breasts were just inches from her face and below that a taut, tanned stomach and lower still a red triangle that covered everything but still left very little to the imagination. She didn't need her imagination because she had _seen_ Rachel naked, but it was better this way, because it didn't feel so wrong and it wasn't as scary.

It might have also had something to do with the miraculous things Rachel was doing to her _ear_ that were about to make Quinn mount her and to hell with the consequences.

"You taste so good."

And apparently there really was no end to how dirty her thoughts could get right now because that just sent them to a whole new low (or high if she was being really honest). She'd be embarrassed by them if she wasn't so damn turned on.

"Something's missing though."

"What? Tell me what you want?"

Wanton, much?

"I just need a little more."

A little more? She could do that. She would probably be up for doing a _lot_ more if Rachel would just tell her exactly what that entailed.

In the absence of instructions she went with what she knew, sliding a hand over Rachel's skin. Water seeped from the bikini as she pressed her palm against it, but right beneath the slick material was Rachel and it probably didn't count as _under the shirt_ when Rachel wasn't wearing one to begin with but Quinn was still aware that it felt like it. She stroked her hand around until she felt a nipple against her palm and wondered how Rachel would react if she gave into her earlier fantasy.

"That wasn't what I had in mind, but it feels _really_ nice, so don't stop okay?"

Why would she stop? What did Rachel _actually_ have in mind? And could she cope with it considering doing this was already just about blowing her mind? And would Rachel notice if she started humping her leg right now?

"I can't quite reach." Rachel whispered. "Can you lift me up a little?"

Reach to do what? Because she seemed to be reaching everything just fine and if anything Quinn wanted her lower, not higher, but she trusted Rachel. Rachel could make her feel like _this_ , so she definitely trusted her to make her feel even better.

It only took a second to grip Rachel by the hips and lift her up. There was a soft squeak in her ear and then the pleasure-bringing lips went away. Long, gorgeous legs wrapping around her waist replaced them and it was hard for Quinn to grumble about it. She kept them there with firm hands under equally firm thighs and if that wasn't enough of a pleasant experience all on its own . . . Quinn was suddenly staring a bright red, too tight, wet bikini in the face. Up close. She was eyeballs to nipples. This wasn't happening! This was _sooo_ happening.

What the fuck was happening?

"Got it!" Rachel's voice was louder now with excitement.

"Me too," she murmured, too in the moment to think beyond it now.

The next sound to come from Rachel was unexpected and slightly obscene but still nowhere near as freak-worthy as the feel of something cold and slippery spraying into her ear. She startled away, swiping at her offended ear and growling as she saw what Rachel was holding. "What the hell?"

"What's wrong?"

"You just squirted cream in my ear!"

Rachel looked at the aerosol cannister in her hand and then back at Quinn like she didn't get the problem. "I told you I was hungry."

"I thought that meant you were hungry for something _else_!"

"Oh." Rachel looked totally lost, all signs of seduction gone. "Are you mad at me?"

"I should be." If a cold squirt of cream to the ear hadn't dampened her desire like a fire extinguisher she probably would be, but . . . it _was_ kind of funny. She poked a finger in her ear and pulled out a large glob of cream. Realising she had nowhere to wipe it she held it up to Rachel's mouth. "Here, you're the hungry one."

Rachel happily sucked it from her fingertip. It produced another brief spark of arousal but the way Rachel just grinned at her afterwards was too cute to make her want to do anything but chuckle. She looked around for a cloth or anything she could wipe the gunk away with, but they were in her pantry, so, yeah, no cloths.

"How am I supposed to clean up, Rachel. I'm not getting cream on my dress and you're not wearing enough to wipe it on."

"Like this, obviously," Rachel came at her ear tongue first.

"No!" Quinn laughed and ducked her head out of the way. She wasn't having that start all over again. She couldn't believe she'd allowed herself to get so carried away in the first place. "You are not licking it from my ear; that's gross!"

Rachel pouted, "Why gross? I thought you liked my tongue in you ear?"

"I . . . am not a pudding cup," she said, playing it safe.

The doorbell rang at the front of the house and Rachel clapped her hands. "Oh!"

"Oh, what?"

"What do you think!"

She moved around her in the small space until Quinn caught her arm, "Where are you going? We have a situation to deal with here." She pointed at her cream-filled ear again.

"I'm sorry, Quinn." Rachel pulled the door wide open and stepped out into the crowd of people outside without seeming to notice them. "But if you won't let me eat you, then I guess I'll have to settle for pizza!"

She took off for the front door and Quinn was going to kill her later for leaving her to face everyone else alone after _that_.

"We came in because we heard the door bell," Tina said, sounding guilty.

Everyone else was just smirking at her, even Brittany.

Quinn sighed and knew only the truth was going to cut it. "Okay, let's get this over with. No, we weren't kissing in there. It's a pantry not a cloest. And, no, she really didn't mean what you're all thinking."

She wasn't sure she'd ever seen Santana look so happy, "So how did she mean it?"

"Literally, I think." She turned her head so that they could all see the cream dribbling down her neck. "She was trying to snack on my ear."

"Oh, girl, she's got it bad for you," Mercedes laughed.

"I know." It felt wrong admitting it, but it was 'in character'. She rolled her eyes to sell it. "Why did I even walk past the pantry to find her gnawing on a bag of dry pasta anyway? I thought I asked you all to make sure she didn't wander off?"

"And we did," Mercedes said, "For as long as we could stand her never shutting up anyway."

"And then we told her to get lost," Santana said with a shrug.

"She said she was just going to find you and ask for a snack," Tina said. "Oh. I guess she did."

Quinn rolled her eyes again, for real this time, and then snatched up the twenty dollars her dad had left on the side for her as a boy called out, "Hey, is anyone going to pay me? If not I'm calling the police!"

That sounded a little extreme. Quinn grabbed a cloth from the counter and walked out of the kitchen cleaning up her ear. "Rachel, put that down! It has meat on it, you silly gnome! I ordered the Veggie Supreme just for you."

Everyone left in the kitchen exchanged confused looks, except for Brittany, who smiled; just happy to know something major that nobody else did . . . yet.

* * *

Thanks for reading :)


	21. Chapter 21

I'm sure my excuses are wearing thin by now but the delay this time has been totally down to tech issues :(. Thank You for all of the reviews for the last chapter; they make my day (well most of them lol).

 **Chapter Twenty-two:**

 **Snapshots of Another Life (Jesus watches over us).**

"Put that down."

Rachel turned towards the wall, huddling over her slice of pizza and cradling the box on her lap. "No!"

Rolling her eyes, yet again, Quinn paid the pizza boy and said goodbye.

"Hey, don't send him away, he's hot!" She hadn't realized Santana had come through to the foyer behind her. "Don't you think he's hot, Q?"

At Santana's words the boy had stayed eagerly hovering on the doorstep, meaning she had no choice but to check him out. And, okay, he was kind of hot, by society's standards. He looked like Finn, if Finn had been blonde and a foot shorter.

"Yeah, he's hot. If you're planning to do the _pizza boy_ can you take it to the back garden where no-one will see you."

Santana laughed as she came closer, "Night, gorgeous," she said as she slapped a dollar tip in his hand and then shut the door in his face.

Quinn didn't know whether she'd passed the test or not.

"I've put plates in the family room. So we can watch TV while we eat but everyone should dry off and get changed first so you don't drip all over the furniture." She let Santana lead the way back to the kitchen to collect their bags and take turns in the downstairs bathroom, and then bent down to pry the pepperoni slice from Rachel's hand. "That's mine."

"But it tastes good!"

"Of course it does, it has meat on it."

"I don't believe in eating meat."

"I know; which is why you need to let go of my pizza."

"Did I tell you about the chicken farms, Quinn!"

"Does pepperoni even come from chickens?"

"Don't be facetious!"

"Didn't realize I was. Are you ever going to stop being stoned?"

"I'm not . . ." Rachel paused to think, possibly. "Actually, _honestly,_ I have no idea what I've been talking about all evening. Other than effing your ear . . ."

"Shut up!" she snapped as she looked quickly over her shoulder.

Rachel just grinned, "Everything is just a beautiful blur. Did you know this is my first ever sleepover?"

Quinn shook her head, although it wasn't a surprise.

"Thank you for another first."

Rachel looked like she was about to lunge in for a kiss so Quinn reacted fast, grabbing the remaining pizza boxes as she stood up.

"You need to get changed. I can't eat pizza with you dressed like that."

"Change into what."

"Your pyjamas of course."

"Okay. Although I don't usually sleep in the nude I suppose I can make an exception for one night."

"What? _What?_ Why would you do that . . . why would you even think that?"

It wasn't the thought of Rachel sleeping with no clothes on that brought the rush of heat to her cheeks, no it was the thought that it was only six-thirty and they still had an entire evening in their pyjamas ahead of them and her brain wouldn't stop conjuring images of Rachel innocently eating pizza, watching movies, playing Pictionary, trading gossip and having pillow fights in the nude!

Also . . . _pillow fights_?

Rachel was cradling her slice of pepperoni pizza in both hands like it was a much cherished pet mouse while trying to get to her feet at the same time. The result had her rolling on her butt this way and that way before managing to get her knees underneath her. Having clearly expended more energy than she felt she had for the time being, she sat back on her heels, gave ninety-five percent of her attention back to the pizza slice she'd just happily 'discovered' in her hands and finally answered Quinn's question three minutes after it had been asked.

"Well, I don't remember you stopping to pack a bag for me on the way here and I can't change into something I don't have, Quinn."

She sighed; shifting the pizza boxes into just one hand she peered through the arch way and down the corridor to the kitchen before holding her hand out to help Rachel off of the floor. The other girl eyed her warily and made sure to finish her slice, pushing half of the crust into her mouth in one go in the most lady-like way it was possible to shove pizza into your face, before taking her proffered hand and allowing Quinn to pull her to her feet.

"You'll just have to wear some of mine."

Rachel's face lit up like Quinn had just told her the PJ's had been pre-worn by Barbra-freaking-Streisand, but in fairness she wasn't the only one who liked the idea. It only added to the fact that this was even more of a nightmare than she'd anticipated however. She should have let Rachel go to Brittany's because bringing her here, especially overnight, was foolish. They weren't friends which meant they shouldn't be spending time together socially, not even in emergencies. She was just teasing herself with things she couldn't have and leading Rachel on at the same time and it wasn't the way it should be.

"Does that mean I get to come upstairs this time?"

Maybe she should bring some pyjamas down here for her to change into with the others. It might be safer than risking a repeat of what had happened in the pantry – ' _Oh yeah, because that had been_ sooo _bad, I'd hate to have anything like that happen again, like upstairs, in my room, with a chair back hooked under the door handle for privacy . . .' –_ while everyone else was downstairs wondering exactly what they were doing up there alone.

Yeah, that wasn't a good idea.

"I would really like to see your bedroom, Quinn, and it only seems fair. You have seen mine on a couple of occasions now."

And the stupid thing was she _wanted_ Rachel to see her bedroom, she wanted to show off her own small piece of the world. Very literally the only place she ever felt really at home. It wasn't as elaborately decorated as Rachel's room, in fact it was very plain and unfussy in comparison, but within those four walls and with the door firmly shut it was the only place she could every truly drop the image she projected to everyone else and just be herself and she wanted to let Rachel in and it felt awful that she shouldn't.

So it was back to compromising.

"Yeah, I guess. Wait here, okay? I'm just going to put these down."

As Rachel nodded excitedly, and wrapped her arms around her torso to wait – it had to be chilly in the foyer when you were only wearing a bikini – Quinn carried the pizza's through to the kitchen and set them on the table while looking to see who was already changed out of their swimsuits – she had two first choices and luckily one of them was free.

"Tina, can I borrow you for a minute?"

* * *

Rachel smiled politely at Tina as the girl accompanied Quinn back into the freezing cold foyer even while frowning at her presence. Hadn't they just decided to go up to Quinn's bedroom so that she could get changed? It was the perfect time and location to put the next stage of her 'Win Quinn back' plan into action. She'd almost won her over in the little room with all the tins of food with her amazing oral skills – and for once she wasn't talking about her singing – but she'd been so hungry she'd lost sight of what she was doing and why she was doing it.

That wouldn't happen again. She'd eaten the pizza with the unfairly tasty little round animals on it and felt fully sustained and ready to accomplish her mission. All she needed was two more minutes with Quinn's ear and she knew the girl would come around but that wouldn't be easy (although not impossible she was sure) if Tina was planning to join them for reasons unknown upstairs.

"Hello, Tina, um . . ." she tried to think fast for a diversion, something to send the goth girl heading in the opposite direction and forgetting all about them, but thinking at all was particularly difficult for some reason.

"Forget it, Berry, I know what you're thinking," Quinn said, smirking as she breezed past her to the stairs. "We're all going up there together."

Darn, well at least someone knew what she was thinking and the reason for Tina was now obvious. Quinn was playing hard to get again. Tina gave her an apologetic smile as they trudged up the stairs behind the blonde.

A few hallways later and they came to an unremarkable white door and then Quinn led them through it to The Magic Kingdom. As magic kingdom's went it was fairly unexceptional, as bedroom's went, it was _large_.

A queen size bed didn't even fill a quarter of the space and the antique vanity, large roll-top desk (which probably wasn't as old as it looked because there was a specific space for a PC tower built in beside the foot-well), the chaise lounge opposite the bed and a bookcase that took up almost all of one wall didn't do anything to diminish the volume of the room either. A family of four could comfortably live in this room if they had to. Quinn opened one of the doors on the other side of the room, leading to a walk in closet that could easily be an annex for the family of four's overnight guests.

She and Tina walked in side by side, both taking it all in – they were in Quinn Fabray's inner sanctum after all and you didn't need to be falling in love with the girl to be desperate for a look inside. The room was sophisticated in a way that made it hard to believe it was the domain of a sixteen year old girl, but then what experience did Rachel have to go on. Maybe her room was just particularly childish, although it didn't feel it to her. It wasn't like she'd expected it to be messy or for there to be band posters all over the wall, but other than the books on the shelves (of which there were a lot), a few ornamental nik-naks here and there and the clothes in the closet there was very little to stamp it with a personality, and Rachel knew Quinn had a personality, not always a very stable one but certainly an interesting one.

There were small traces though, the longer she looked. A few photos stuck into the edges of her vanity mirror of Quinn with Santana and Brittany at parties and one of them at the bowling alley that made Rachel smile. Another photo Rachel recognized immediately as the same one that graced the middle of last year's Thunderclap. Quinn was in the middle of her squad of Cheerios and holding on tight to the National Championship trophy. How many times had her own eyes glanced over that photo in the past couple of months? This copy was framed and hanging on the wall opposite her bed, signifying its importance within the room.

On one of the few shelves not filled with books was another framed picture, this time Quinn was standing with Finn in someone's (Puck's maybe?) backyard and it had probably been taken over the summer given their scant clothing and tans. The stab of jealousy was as familiar as it was unwelcome and she moved her eyes swiftly on to a small trophy from cheerleading camp and beside that a photo of Quinn in the most beautiful dusky rose-petal pink dress Rachel had ever seen, standing next to a slightly taller blonde in a wedding dress.

How she wished Tina wasn't seeing all of this with her. She wanted to quiz Quinn on all of it – Who is this? When was this taken? What did you win this for? Tell me everything! – but she didn't want to share that experience. Actually it probably didn't matter that Tina was stopping her from gushing because she felt struck-dumb just being in this room anyway.

And in a voyeuristic sense she was curious as to what Tina was getting from the little hints of Quinn they were seeing. Did she think it was strange that the three most popular girls in school were photographed at Lima's tacky bowling alley? Did she look at Finn's arms around Quinn and see nothing but a happy couple? Did she . . . _Gah!_

She and Tina had completed their slow three-sixty observation of the room at the same time and now both jumped back in surprise. Or maybe Tina jumped more because Rachel had just shrieked at being confronted by the unexpected; and such a large unexpected at that.

"Holy Mother of . . ." Tina stopped, hand held over her heart, and started again accurately. "Holy _Son_ of God!"

"What's wrong?" Quinn demanded, dashing back out of her closet.

"That!" Rachel pointed at it. "You could have warned us we were being watched!"

Quinn blushed, looking unamused by their reaction, and for second Rachel thought she was going to order them both out of the room, but then she shook her head with a chuckle.

"It's just a painting."

"His eyes are following me around the room," Tina said.

"You're standing still."

"I know what you mean," she said, agreeing with Tina, not Quinn. She waved a hand in the air. "I bet I can make him blink."

"It's a _painting_."

"Why do you have a giant painting of Jesus in your room?"

"Why don't you have a stutter any more?"

She was vaguely aware that the other two girls were at an impasse and was about to turn and say something helpful to re-break the ice when . . .

"Guys, did you see that?" She took a hurried step back, pointing again. "He just smiled!"

"Okay, I'm not even stoned and that's freaking me out. Maybe I should . . ."

"Tina, get back here and sit down!" Ooh, that was Quinn's really pissed off voice; it was heavenly. "Rachel, stop glaring at Jesus, he's not going to hurt you, and come and pick some pyjamas."

She trotted over dutifully, checking over her shoulder almost constantly to make sure Jesus wasn't following her.

"Okay, I'm wearing these ones," she said, pointing to some yellow cotton pyjamas folded on the bed. "So that leaves you with two choices." She pointed to each in turn. "We have the hooded tiger print onesie or the blue checked flannel night shirt _but_ if you choose the nightshirt you _have_ to wear it with the hat." Smirking openly now, she held up a pointed nightcap, complete with a little blue bobble on the end.

What? How was she supposed to choose between Tigger and Wee Willie Winkie? They were both iconic roles in their own right!

"You actually wear the onesie?" Tina asked.

Quinn chuckled, "Of course not. I have an aunt in Florida who hasn't seen me in like five years; she still thinks I'm twelve. But it should fit Berry, right?"

"And you don't have any other _normal pyjamas_?"

"Sure I do, but where's the fun in that."

"Would you two stop whispering about me? I'm _trying_ to make an important decision here."

"Hurry up, Stubbles, the pizza's are getting cold."

Rachel fingered the soft material, tugging on one of the little ears of the tiger print footsie pyjamas and then turned an equally longing look at the nightcap before fixing Quinn with earnest eyes.

"Do you by any chance have a candlestick that would complete my costume?"

Tina groaned while Quinn just chuckled again and went to a chest of drawers the other side of the bed. "Like I'm letting you near a naked flame tonight. Here." She handed over a small black flashlight. "You just modernised the role. Bathroom's through there."

Rachel snatched up the night shirt and made her way to the door before remembering something that was possibly important. "Underwear!"

"Berry, are you serious? I'd give you a can of lighter fluid and a box of matches before I let you near my panties. Wear your own or keep the bikini bottoms on."

She wriggled slightly on the spot, noting that the bikini was still a little damp, but her own underwear was downstairs with the rest of her clothes. She thought about going commando, just to teach Quinn a lesson, but that hadn't worked out so well for her last time.

She closed the bathroom door behind her and began to get changed, before forgetting that she was supposed to be rushing. She stopped to have a little look at Quinn's large selection of toiletries and after awhile she heard a conversation begin through the door.

"You're really good with her, you know."

"You make her sound like a special needs kid," Quinn sounded annoyed, which was nice. "She's just high; it'll wear off . . . _eventually_."

"No, I didn't just mean today."

"So what do you mean?"

"I guess we, um, all sort of expected her to go missing after the truth came out."

Quinn laughed but Rachel didn't hear her say anything.

"I mean she blackmailed you and made everyone think something that wasn't true, _anyone_ would have wanted to make her life a living hell after that and you could have, easily, but you've been . . ."

"What _have_ I been, Tina?"

The urge to be nosy left Rachel at the sound of Quinn's voice turning dangerous and she moved to the door. Not to open it obviously, it was just easier to hear what was being said from here.

"Understanding. Most kids in school wouldn't be, you know that. And it is . . . it is _Rachel_ after all. I mean, she's okay, I don't have anything against her, but she's not most people's first choice for an admirer, is she?"

Rachel fumed quietly, with one hand on the doorknob ready to rush out there and defend herself, but some masochistic part of her wanted to see what Quinn would say. She couldn't defend her, wouldn't say 'Hey, actually I love having Manhands as my same-sex admirer', so how would she deal with this? And did she know her bathroom door was thin enough for Rachel to hear every word of the conversation?

"I don't really know what you're getting at."

"I'm not getting at anything. It's just, we were talking earlier and, well, I think everyone else wants to think there's something going on because you're being so nice, but I just wanted to say that I think it's cool, that you're . . . taking it . . . her crush on you . . . in stride and not, like, killing her or making her life miserable. That's all, you know?"

"I see." Oh, Barbra, Tina was the one who was going to get killed. "I appreciate your support in a matter that is really none of your business, but do you know who could actually benefit from it? The girl you're gossiping about."

"I'm not gos—"

"Maybe not here with me, but you've just admitted you were earlier. Berry's the one who's heartbroken, so don't you think _she's_ the one who could use you as a friend right now, rather than me."

"I . . . guess."

"And as for why I'm being so _understanding_? She just ate nearly a dozen spiked cupcakes to protect me and my baby. I might not like her but that's the kind of thing that at least deserves respect, don't you think?"

"It does."

Okay, Rachel hadn't been expecting _that_. It made her feel all warm and gooey inside and, darn it, fall for Quinn just that little bit more. How much further could she fall until she'd fallen all the way? It wasn't really important. What was important was doubling her efforts to make sure Quinn was there to catch her when she reached the bottom.

"Besides," Quinn's tone was softened by a conspiratorial chuckle. "It has its funny side. She's about to face Santana and Mercedes dressed as Wee Willie Winkie. Do you think anyone else could get her to do that?"

Rachel looked at the nightshirt she'd draped over the towel rack in outrage. She'd been really excited about wearing it and Quinn was just trying to get her to look stupid in front of the others? She hefted the flash-light in her hand, it wasn't big enough to do much damage but could probably cause quite a bruise if she wielded it right!

"But she likes it," came Tina's confused response.

"Of course she does. Where's the fun if she doesn't. Berry's happy, Santana and Mercedes are going to have a field day; I'm an awesome hostess."

"But aren't you worried her feelings will get hurt? After everything you just said about respect."

' _Yes, Quinn, aren't you worried about my feelings! At all?'_

"Firstly, no, why would _I_ worry about _her_ feelings? She's doesn't care about mine when she keeps coming on to me. Secondly, no. There's no need to. Berry takes everything they say with a pinch of salt because she knows she's way better than what they think of her."

Rachel dropped the flash-light to the side and wondered if in the silence outside Quinn was trying to think of a way to take back her words.

"Yeah, I guess she is."

She dropped the flashlight altogether when Tina said that, even if it had been a little hesitant, and then startled badly when Quinn thumped the bathroom door just an inch from her nose.

"Are you done yet, Stubbles? Hurry up!" Quieter, she heard Quinn add, "I'd leave her up here if I wasn't worried she'd start macking on my pillow."

"Just coming!" Grinning, she pulled the nightshirt on – it felt so soft against her skin and she wondered how often Quinn had worn it – took a second to fix her hair in the mirror, grabbed the flashlight back from the floor and left the bathroom. "I'm ready."

Quinn's eyes warmed up instantly when she turned to look at her so maybe she wasn't the only one appreciating her costume choice in a _good_ way. Then she smirked, "Don't forget the cap," and held it out for her.

Rachel took it and went back into the bathroom as she pulled it on, making sure it was sitting right in the mirror. She considered a jaunty angle but decided to go for the more traditional approach instead, she was already using a flashlight, she didn't want to lose all of the authenticity of the role.

Re-emerging, she asked, "How do I look?"

"Really cute," Quinn drawled sarcastically, before giving her a wink that Tina couldn't see. Then she turned to the other girl. "Wouldn't you say?"

It was possible Tina hadn't picked up on the false sarcasm or perhaps she was still thinking about Quinn's earlier words but she gave Rachel an encouraging smile. "You actually do look really cute."

She beamed and was quick to return the compliment, "You look stunning, I love those pyjamas."

Tina looked down at her deep purple satin pyjamas shyly. "Thanks. I actually just bought them before we came over. I think I left the tag in."

Giggling, Rachel went behind the other girl to check and yep. "Quinn, do you have any scissors?"

"Yes, and if anyone compliments _my_ pyjamas I might let you use them."

Rachel looked around Tina's shoulders to see Quinn's loose yellow bedroom attire. She must have gotten changed while she was in the bathroom. They looked so warm and summery she felt an instant urge to go and snuggle with them. It was probably best to refrain though.

"Okay, I think I have the perfect Shakespearean soliloquy prepared for just this occasion." She struck a pose, one hand held out dramatically towards Quinn. " _Shall I compare thee to a Summer's . . ."_

"I'll pass!" Quinn decided with a roll of her eyes and fetched the scissors from her desk as Rachel and Tina giggled.


End file.
